


A Hunt Like No Other

by Crazyscientist85



Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Doom (Video Games), RWBY
Genre: Blood and Violence, Crossover, Gen, Gun Violence, Multiple Crossovers, OC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2020-10-24 06:38:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 45,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20701574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazyscientist85/pseuds/Crazyscientist85
Summary: So it turns out that Vaults are scattered all over the galaxy. But what about Pandora? Had the planet run out of Vaults to open? Of course not. But have you ever wondered why the Eridians tried so hard to hide them? Well, the general idea is that some Vaults... should have never seen the light of day. And for good reason.





	1. Escaped from Hell

Normal Text.

"Conversation."

"_Thinking/Mental conversation._"

(Author – Song)

* * *

(Ager Sonus – Inner Sanctum)

"_Just... a little... more... you... can do it!_"

For many people, the term "impossible" is a word used to describe jobs that require herculean effort in order to be finished. For others, it is a term often applied to an event that shouldn't be real, because the laws of nature forbid it from happening. Yet for Braylon Monocriffe, that word lost its meaning a long time ago.

How to... describe, Braylon? Not much was known about him as a person, other than the fact that he was a teenager, quite visible from his physical appearance. He was also a Vault Hunter, someone who is willing to sell their soul for hidden treasures, dangerous adventures and a hedonistic lifestyle.

Being a Vault Hunter is a difficult way of life, due to the dangers it brings on oneself. For the sake of our example, some of the best known Vault Hunters out there have a bounty on their heads because they stepped on the toes of several megacorporations one too many times. Those people hide on the surface of Pandora, a galaxy-known planet where only the best and brightest are able to survive its deadly nature, and even those have a hard time doing it properly.

One such individual is Braylon, who learned from a very young age life lessons that some take decades to acquire and whole lives to master completely. Said lessons helped him during his many adventures across the galaxy, being able to survive even when all odds were against him.

"Hah... ha... _close..._"

But... why the name Vault Hunter? Why not "Adventurer" or "Treasure Hunter"? A question whose answer can be found on before-mentioned Pandora.

Many years ago, during the era where a corporation known as Dahl built the first ever human settlements, people from all over the galaxy were brought on that wasteland to mine precious metals for the corporation. It was a time, a better time, when people, either out of boredom or unfounded rumors they heard from their comrades, started talking about things that would soon turn into legends. One of them was the legendary alien artifact known as the "Vault".

If you were to ask everyone on Pandora what a Vault exactly was, everyone would tell you a different story. Alien technology, power, money... women. These were just few of a whole range of descriptions made by the locals. But when you would gather all the information necessary, you would soon find out that no one actually knows what it is. Strangely enough, everyone would tell you that it exists and that it was hidden somewhere on Pandora.

Well, believe it or not, it turns out that the Vault was actually real. We are not going to bore ourselves with pointless questions like how did the locals knew it existed and yet none could make an accurate description of it. All you need to know is that a team of four brave Vault Hunters managed to find its location. There was only one problem, though.

The Vault was not what everyone thought it was.

Oh no. It was no treasure, no hidden tech. It served a greater purpose. One that required a sacrifice of an entire alien species, only to be rendered pointless by a quartet of humans. Why, for it was nothing more than a glorified cage! A cage for an eldritch beast that could single-handedly wipe out the universe and everything in it. Don't worry, it won't be a problem for at least a hundred more years. What would be a problem was the massive attention Pandora gained from... well... everyone.

Every day thousands died by the hands of that tiny speck of dust in search for other Vaults. Thousands more by the corporations who tried to claim the planet as their own. With force, if necessary. Yes, you heard me correctly. There was not just one Vault. There was three more scattered all over Pandora and all three have been found, with its abominations defeated. What many don't know, is that there was a fifth one, hidden very carefully by the species who built them. And for a good reason.

Vault Hunters like to travel in groups. More capable hands means more probability of being successful. And successful Braylon and his team was. Apart from doing things that no sane man would, they also found this cursed Vault. A mistake that cost them greatly, especially Braylon. A mistake that sent him to Hell.

Literally.

"*Gasp!*"

But... it should be... impossible... right?

You are not alone in that thought. Braylon believed it too. He believed, because he saw it happen with his own eyes. He felt it on his own skin for who knows how long. Time was a concept that was completely unnecessary in a place of eternal torment like Hell.

By his own willpower, and virtually nothing else, the Vault Hunter made it to the black shore composed of material unknown to him, but visually similar to dirt. With skin heavily burnt and mental screams that violently expressed his wish for death, something that would happen several times over in the state he was currently in, he pathetically crawled further inland, towards the edge of a forest, as if he were a human-sized maggot. He couldn't even scream because his throat was heavily injured.

The defiance to surrender gave him a boost necessary to slowly get back on his feet, weak as they were. So weak in fact, that he had to put his back on a tree. And what a tree it was, completely gray and leafless, with legs and arms instead of branches and eyes randomly scattered all over its skin.

Taking a moment to regain his breath, his eyes gazed at the lake of fire from which he escaped not long ago. Others that remained trapped there weren't as lucky as he was. Then again, they didn't have a helping hand, if we can call it like that.

"_I suggest you get moving, mortal. You are close to the exit, so stop wasting my time._" A voice commanded inside his head.

This pathetic bag of not-quite-dead flesh raised its left arm to stare at the bleeding symbol carved on the back of the hand. A five-pointed star turned upside down. An eternal reminder of the deal he had made.

Braylon the Vault Hunter removed himself from the tree, testing his legs once again. After finding out they were stable enough to hold his weight, he ventured deeper into the eldritch forest.

It was dark, unnaturally so. The only light that ever perforated into the forest was the one coming from the eternally crimson and cloudy sky. Eldritch trees like the one from before were a common sight, just like the people who were trapped in them like a mythical dryad, but now mixed with dead bushes, flowers made of flesh and other horrors that a mortal mind could never create. Strange sounds could often be heard echoing through the forest, mostly something akin to screams of pain or cries of despair.

"_Turn right._" The voice commanded once again. Braylon followed the orders without hesitation, as if whatever the voice was, it had his best interest in mind.

Walking barefoot in the middle of a supernatural forest is a task not many are willing to take. Those who do, often find lots of trouble on their path. For Braylon, trouble came in the form of a skeletal horned snake that rose up and hissed threateningly. Braylon turned around and ran as fast as he could, or, at least, tried to. It was more of a fast walk than an actual run. He cursed himself mentally for being so weak.

At least he wasn't running around like a headless chicken, but instead followed a light that was closer and closer with each step he took. When he approached close enough to identify it, he saw the source that gave the light. It was a torch attached to a tree. He was about to come even closer but was stopped by a satyr-like creature which let out a high-pitched noise as it ran past him, not even bothering to check who it was. It scared Braylon, though not enough to make him stop and forget the other chaser, so he grabbed the torch and threw it backwards. As he hoped, the "vegetation" erupted into a wall of flame more than capable to ward off the demon, thus enabling him to continue his evasion. What a surprise it was when he turned around only to see that he was out of the forest.

"_You are not here to sightsee, mortal. Remember that you are as useful as you are disposable. If they catch you, there won't be a second chance. So get moving!_"

The surroundings experienced a drastic change. Everything became bright once more and the irregular ground was now made of some orange stone. There was still the lake of fire, just a little bit farther away and not so much in the focus. Truth to be told, the place strongly resembled a park of sorts, with silvery-gray statues depicting various monstrosities in even more varying poses and literally nothing else. Further away, in the lake, a giant mountain-like island stood out like a sore thumb, yet radiating with overwhelmingly terrifying presence. A gigantic moth-like creature circled around its peak with two pairs of wings that had shapes one could connect to eyes, eternally looking down upon the righteously condemned souls. The hellish sky stretched to the horizon, booming here and there as if massive cannons were fired on a battlefield that no one could see.

Walking few meters forward, the Vault Hunter realized his legs would eventually betray him and he would fall on the ground. And by God, he wasn't willing to let that happen, no matter how ridiculous he looked compared to the monstrosities that roamed freely in that place. Leaning on a statue, Braylon saw a fountain down the gravel road, with the statue depicting a demon slicing the throat of some mortal alien being, blood endlessly flowing from the wound in an arc. As much as frighteningly intriguing it looked, he knew that, in the end, it was just a fake that would disappear as soon as he moved away from the area, swapped with something completely different. Whole Hell worked on that rule. Things like laws of nature, shackles from which no mortal will ever be capable to escape from, were the laughingstock for everyone in that cursed dimension. We can only imagine the impact of such discovery on a fragile mortal mind, much less on one that is still in development.

Come on, he motivated himself, put some more strength in those legs, you want to get out, don't you? You still have a life to live and nothing would stop you from living it. I am well aware of its meaninglessness, but I simply don't give a damn. Come on!

Gritting his teeth, and ignoring the pain as much as he could, the young Vault Hunter took a step forward. Then another. Then another...

He fell down on the gravel, screaming in pain as some of the tiny rocks opened several wounds on his naked frame, or adding salt to the ones already existing. Nevertheless, he wasn't going to give up.

"_I'm losing my patience here. See that blue sphere?_" The voice asked, seemingly not caring of Braylon's suffering. "_All you need to do is touch it._"

Truly, there was a blue sphere floating in front of the blood fountain, the size of a basketball and the brightness of a light bulb, with a agonized face screaming soundlessly. The amount of effort it took to reach it was something that could rival the mythical heroes and their quests. He raised one hand weakly towards the sphere, touching it slightly. As he did, the sphere turned into gas of the same color that enveloped his fragile frame. Every wound he had, every damaged muscle, every broken bone, all of it was suddenly gone, replaced by a feeling of blissfulness as his body began transforming into what it was before the nightmare began. It was the first time he was happy that he could breathe the air around him, albeit it reeking of sulphur and negativity.

"_Don't worry about it. It was a soul of some nobody forever locked in that small jail of theirs. Now, keep going._"

It was fine, it truly was, but now he had a whole new set of problems. For starters, if what the voice said was true, he had just used someone's soul to mend his fleshy shell. It felt so wrong that he had to bend over and vomit, for it was nothing like killing a person physically. It was a murder on a whole new level, one that gifted the killer with all the memories, emotions and pain the soul experienced, unlike the "standard" version. Second, now that his meat shield was restored, his mind went into something that could best be described as malfunction. In what way, you ask? The wide range of emotions, from hatred and sorrow to happiness and ecstasy, suddenly barraged his brain in a synchronized attack. First he would cry, then he would laugh. The brain wasn't supposed to work like that, to feel two conflicting emotions at once. It didn't help that he heard a bull-like cry coming from the forest behind him.

"_Oh no. They found me?!_"

The increasingly-loud clopping was the confirmation he needed to get up and reach the exit. Still slightly stunned by the after-effects of the soul sphere, he walked towards a set of stairs close to the fountain. Curiosity got the better of him, so he turned his head around.

There it was. The mastodontic hunter in search of the prey that escaped. A monstrous combination of brown-furred goat legs and red-skinned humanoid upper body, with a physique that would make most mortals jealous and with a strength to crush a truck as if it were the most basic of tin cans. All mixed with a pair of black horns and hooves. Its mere presence urged mortals to go for the nearest shelter.

For Braylon there was no shelter to hide in. His only insurance was his own pair of legs, which sprinted upstairs as soon as his eyes met with the monster's.

"_Faster, mortal! Don't make me regret my choice!_" Screamed the voice in his head, urging him to go as fast as his legs could carry him.

Because his body got restored, he wasn't as weak as before, allowing him to pass the stairs and jump to a tiny floating island-platform.

"_Over there!_"

He suddenly felt the urge to move his head towards another floating island higher above. A bright light emanated from something he couldn't see. The only way to reach it was to jump from island to island. Nobody said acquiring freedom would be easy.

The first few islands were easy to reach because they were really close to each other. But as the number of islands he passed grew, so did the difficulty to reach them. After he grabbed the edge of an island and climbed his way to the top, he saw the beast, down to earth, staring at him as if he were a pest that annoyed him. For a moment Braylon thought he was safe. That changed after the demon's hands burst into green flames.

"_Uh-oh, not good!_"

Not good indeed. The powerful demon clenched his right fist and positioned himself, throwing a green fireball at the mortal teenager. Hadn't he jumped to another island, he would have been pulverized.

"_He can throw fireballs?!_"

"_Why are you surprised? Everything above mortals can pull such tricks._"

"_You never told me this!_"

"_I did, however, tell you to be quick, didn't I? Besides, you are in no position to win a combat against my oh so beloved comrade. Not now, at least._"

Only one jump divided him from his liberty. One jump to end it all. He could now see his proverbial ticket. It was a rift in reality itself, as if the fabric that built it was torn apart, forming an oval-shaped gate filled with purple light and charged with black electricity. Even light seemed to be absorbed by the phenomena, though whether it actually was or wasn't, remained unknown.

"_The rift is about to disappear!_"

Braylon took two steps backwards and sprinted forward. When he reached the edge, he jumped, and barely missed a fireball that was way too close for his liking. Landing harshly, he got up and dashed towards the rift, screaming as he approached the blinding light.

* * *

Everything ceased for a fraction of a second. The light was gone, the heat was no more and the cursed noise vanished in thin air. All of it changed by a loud "poof!". Everything returned at the same speed, only... different.

The very first details his eyes caught was the color blue. Blue as in sky blue and water blue! Ah! What a nice change for the best! Much better than the endless lake of fire and torment, that's for sure.

Unfortunately, his happiness ceased once his legs informed his brain that there was no ground to stand on. That meant only one thing...

"Oh shiiiii-oof!"

The pain from falling on the sand is awful, but at least it's not like falling on dirt. Plus the air was kinda cold and he was butt-naked, so warm sand was definitely something positive.

"_Ah... you landed there... hmm... this might be more entertaining than I thought it would._"

"Yeah, I'm dying of laughter already." Braylon was amazed at how deep his voice sounded. Probably for the fact that his throat needed some "training" before his voice could return to normal.

"_Hold on. I'm sending you that toy of yours._"

Braylon witnessed a bright, orange flash appearing out of nowhere few meters away from him. When it disappeared, it left behind a large red chest that could be found anywhere on Pandora. Weirdly enough, people called them "loot chests".

He approached said loot chests and opened it. It contained a silvery, bracer-like device with a rectangular screen on top.

"How..." He tried to ask as he picked it up.

"_It wasn't easy, I'll admit. I had to use a favor or two to get it. Don't even think I am some kind of charity. I simply need you to stay alive if I want you to complete my plan._"

As they talked, the Vault Hunter placed the device on his left arm, thus triggering its activation. The screen flashed to life.

The device in question is called Personal Digistruct Assistant, or PDA for short. It is a very unique device that gifts its user with powers many would kill for. In short, think of it as a child born from an intercourse between a supercomputer and a Swiss army knife. Like both of them, it has many uses.

Firstly, it contains a gigantic storage space, with small amount of it used for storing every bit of information known to man, from history to all branches of science and arts created or discovered by humankind, easily accessible to its user whenever they wish.

Secondly, aside from being the smallest library in existence, it has many accessories, applications and features, including, but not limited to, medical nanobots designed to heal any physical wounds, cybernetic implants that can be installed into the body through the PDA, high-tech equipment designed for scientific purposes, and so on. It even has functions of an ECHO device like digital inventory and such.

And lastly, the military equipment. The PDA was designed for both civil and military use, so it's no surprise to find out that it has an integrated AI specifically made to help the user through militaristic operations, along with various gadgets that go with that. Since it is also a weapon, it doesn't leave the user defenseless. Quite the contrary, it has a program that enables them to materialize CQC weapons made of solid light, the Holographic Weapon Maker. Braylon's PDA only three tools so far. Those were: Holo Sabre, a large curved blade similar to a claw, very sharp and very deadly. Holo Claw, three smaller blades shaped like claws, for grabbing and tearing. And last but not least, the Holo Ripper, basically a holographic chainsaw, smaller than the Sabre but good for tearing through fleshy targets.

But even a marvelous piece of technology like the PDA has flaws. Only twenty or so were produced all over the galaxy and the painful "first time". The former is a nicer way of saying "you just got a bounty on your head" while the latter... well...

**Systems online. Warning! Error! Lost connection to the owner. Rebooting the systems. Please wait...**

Braylon felt as if hundreds of mosquitoes stabbed his arm, followed by a feeling that something started travelling through his arm.

**Systems online. Playing "Introduction". A warm welcome to you, my newest owner! My name is Personal Digistruct Assistant, model A7-938412. You can, however, call me as you wish! Now before we begin, allow me to get a quick scan of your genetic code... please wait... and done! You may be wondering why did I perform a scan of your DNA, with or without your permission. It is all for your safety, because now you, and only you, are allowed to use all of my features, as the system will only accept you as its legal owner.**

**You may also wonder why did you feel as if your skin got pierced by tiny needles. You must know that the PDA doesn't take its owner's life for granted, so it installed dozens of tiny tubes which will connect themselves to every important part of your body! Heart, lungs, liver, even brain, all of them are now directly connected to the device, making transportation of information and resources a reality. Don't worry, it won't hurt you anymore!**

**And now for the basics you need to know. You can access your PDA features either through your thoughts, verbally or by typing on the screen, whichever is easier for you. Should you need important information that you never knew about, but the database has it stored, the AI will download that information into your brain through the help of a chip that the nanobots are building right now.**

**You also need to know that you probably aren't the first owner of this device. In fact, the device has an in-built battery that will last for several thousands of years, can survive up to ten thousand degrees either positive or negative, it is bullet and waterproof and immune to most acids known to mankind. This means that there is a high chance that someone already used this device. Don't be sad though! The more owners it had, the more of its features are unlocked and free for you to use! Please note that, should you wish so, the PDA will automatically block and remove any and all information it acquired during its time of activity.**

** If you are impatient, you can skip the tutorials by tapping on the button that will appear on the screen. Doing so you will allow the PDA to download all commands directly into your brain. Skipping tutorials. Downloading instructions... please wait...**

Braylon let out a sigh. First time is always the worst.

**Instructions downloaded. Basic scans completed. Systems online. Hello, Braylon Monocriffe!**

The Vault Hunter wasted no more time and decided to reinstall every implant he had before losing the PDA, effectively returning to his transhuman form, for the implants drastically changed and improved his body. To name a few...

**Beginning installation sequence.**

**Installing Implant Y-017 "Monocyte Breeder". Improving treatment of physical injuries.**

**Installing Implant B-015 "Subdermal Armor". Slightly increasing resistance to damage.**

**Installing Implant C-066 "Thermal Adaptor". Improving resistance to temperature changes caused by elemental ammunition.**

**Installing Implant A-045 "Cationic Insulator". Shields will now have increased performance.**

**Installing Implant X-077 "Hazmat Protection Agent". Improving resistance to corrosive chemicals.**

**Installing Implant O-012 "Reflex Booster". Enhancing physical agility.**

**Installing Implant L-090 "L.O.G.I.C.". Increased mental performance of the owner.**

**Installing Implant D-019 "Digestive Filtration System". Any toxins or harmful agents will be removed from consumed food and liquids.**

**Warning! Following implants may cause harm. Enabling forced comatose.**

"I can feel it. This is going to be an interesting day." He said out lout before dropping down like a rock.


	2. Baby Steps

(Cities Last Broadcast - Glossolalia)

"_Aeons. That's how much we waited for an opportunity like this._"

The chilling whisper he caught was enough to force his eyes to open, noticing how his surroundings changed yet again. Did something happen to him while he was forcefully put into a coma? Braylon wasn't sure. He was sure, however, that the beach and the sea had gone, replaced by a gravel road in the middle of... nowhere?

He had no idea where he was, only that he stood on a road between two natural walls made of rock. Everything except the road was covered in snow, but there was no coldness for him to feel. Thousands of tiny snowflakes ran down from the clouds high in the sky, the fog making it hard to see anything that was at a distance longer than five meters from him. Looking back, the road was cut off by a large pile of rocks, making him feel trapped like a rat. Only this rat had one, not necessarily good, choice to follow.

Clearing his mind of any paranoid thoughts, Braylon slowly took a step forward, followed by another. He stopped. Something wasn't right. He felt like someone, or something, was watching him. From where, he wasn't sure. The strange noises he heard only made him more uncomfortable. Ah, his imagination got the better of him, he thought, he should stay focused on the road ahead.

Careful not to fall in a trap of some kind, the young Vault Hunter followed the road. The more he walked, the more the walls distanced themselves, up to the point where they stopped completely, swapped for a forest full of dead trees, also covered in snow. The road was still going forward, always straight, not for once changing directions.

"_All this time, we were lurking in the shadows. Foolishly and greedily did the mortals stare in the abyss, without realizing that someone was staring back._"

The voice... it wasn't the voice of the demon he knew. Truth to be told, it sounded like it didn't belong to a demon at all. If he had to guess, it was a man's voice. Deep, yet calm, pleasing to the ear and the spirit. There was no way that could have been good news, he thought. He had no choice but to walk. Should he step outside the road, his foot would become as cold as liquid nitrogen. Stepping back, the foot would return to its normal temperature.

Braylon got used to witnessing strange things, with some bordering on paranormal. Because of this, he developed a "sense" that would alert him whenever something strange was happening that couldn't be explained rationally. It was not a sense per se, more like gathered experience, and it wouldn't always work. But it didn't take a genius to realize that this was the work of something beyond his current comprehension and knowledge. He bet at this being a hallucination or a dream, but it felt too real for being one of the two. Neither hallucinations or dreams have such levels of organization, being random products of the mind.

At some point he walked into a set of stairs made of black stone that seemingly lead to the top of a hill. His sense of danger was becoming stronger and stronger with each stair he passed. He came to a point where his anxiety grew to a phobia. Nevertheless, he didn't give up, whatever horrors happened to be lurking at the top.

"_We were imprisoned, banished by the enemy, to a place where the shadows devour even darker shadows, revealing a world where no being dares to tread._"

The never-ending stairway became a frustration for the teenager. When he thought about how he reached the top, there would be another set of stairs waiting for him, seemingly going towards the sky itself. The fear he felt now changed to vivid images of brutal torture, murder and destruction at the hands of unspeakable monstrosities, more and more disturbing with every single step.

He couldn't take it anymore, so he collapsed on the stairs. His face was covered in sweat and he started to hyperventilate. He wished he could stop the torture of his, but something pushed him forward relentlessly, as if the top of the mountain hid important secrets or things that captivated his very soul. He reached the top the very moment he was about to give up. So after taking some time to gather his breath, he walked forward until he reached the edge that appeared so suddenly.

The scenery changed so suddenly that his eyes failed to spot the change in time. The fog was bloody red and less present, snow was replaced by ash and the ground became unbearably hot. There, right in fornt of him, was perhaps the most horrifying image he ever had the displeasure of seeing.

Below stood a large, disc-shaped arena, surrounded by all sides with boiling lava that fell from gargantuan Eridian statues placed at four sides, indicating cardinal directions of the world respectively. A bridge connected the arena with a tiny island on which stood an upside down V made of white stone. That was the (in)famous Vault, seemingly opened, a fact recognizable by an orange rift inside the piece of alien architecture.

But what was the most disturbing, however, was what came out of the Vault's rift. Each minute, hundreds of thousands of monsters rushed out into an unstoppable stampede with such eagerness that was incomprehensible to a simplistic, human mind. Terrestrial and flying, grotesque and beautiful, midgets and giants, eldritch and natural. All of it happening under two watchful eyes hiding behind a thick veil of fog, high above the Vault.

"_We know that our end is near. But we **don't care. Because before we disappear, we will drag down every single mortal in the whole creation. Rivers of blood will overflow, fresh skulls will be added to the existing piles and trillions of souls will be lost forever. For we are demons, the bane of all that is mortal!******_****"****

Braylon felt the giant's gaze upon him, full of abnormal hatred. Suddenly a gigantic hand shot out of the fog towards him.

"My god! No! AAAHHH!"

* * *

"AAAHHH! OW! OW! OW!"

**Regular brain activity detected. Shutting down emergency systems.**

"Gah! What the hell!"

The teenage Vault Hunter shook violently on the sand as he felt electric pulses coming from his wrist device. As soon as it stopped, his upper body quickly rose up, breathing large amounts of fresh air into the lungs. It took several seconds for him to come to his senses and find out that he was on the beach the whole time.

"_I'm glad to see that our sleeping beauty finally woke up._"

There was the familiar demon's voice. He didn't pay very much attention to it, as his mind returned back to the haunting vision he saw before. The feeling of dread that slowly crept up upon him at the sight of so many monsters left an impact on his psyche, powerful enough to be brought into the reality that currently accompanied him. More disturbing was his ability to recognize his familiarity with the place, the Vault, now serving as freedom for creatures that should have never abandon whatever hellhole they crawled out of.

Thus the question came spontaneously, was what he saw a product of a traumatized mind after experiencing a taste of Hell, the dimension from which he escaped, or was it a type of premonition, a warning about an event that was bound to happen or, worse, it's already happening? It's not that big of a stretch to say that receiving the privilege of knowing the answers to questions humans tried to find an answer to ever since its beginnings so bluntly and so cruelly wasn't really good for health. Especially when that knowledge would place a curse that one had to endure for the rest of their days.

The curse of loneliness.

We are not talking about the ability to socialize with other individuals. This type of loneliness comes from the knowledge one has in possession, yet they are unable to share it with others, because they would either dismiss it or mock its owner. He knew, he knew that it would be a secret that he will bring with him into the coffin. A secret that would slowly chip away bits of his already-damaged sanity.

"_Are you going to keep pondering about your miserable life, or are you going to move and repair the mess you've caused?_"

"What?"

"_Have you forgot already? The Vault you opened is the cause for all of this chaos. If you wish to see another sunrise, I suggest you to start doing something productive._"

"Vault?" He looked down on his trembling hands. "Chaos?"

"_Let me spell it out for you. Your wish is to never return to Hell, correct?_"

Braylon's mind relived his experience about the Vault opening, his arrival to Hell and his escape from it. The hands stopped shaking as he clenched his fists tightly.

"Yes."

"_Then you surely wish for everything to return back to normal, correct?_"

"Yes."

"_Then your goal is set in stone. You must stop the Unholy Crusade and the mastermind behind it, the so-called Dark Lord of the Fourth Age._"

"D-Dark Lord?" He parroted dumbly.

"_You know who. The Great Enemy, Fallen One, Changer of Ways... His pride cost us our home. Mortals are to blame of course._"

"I... I'm so confused..." He gripped his head. "What do I have to do with all of this?... What do you gain from all of this?"

"_You were the one who started it all. As for me, I get to see his face once a mortal he so despises ruins his plans. I still owe him one for dragging me down with him._"

If he could sink into the earth, he would do it with pleasure. His head hurt, bitter and angry for what had fate in store for him. Was his years-long Vault-hunting career not worth the mercy it would take for him to get some deserved rest? All the trouble he had been through, and it still wasn't enough? Raging against the heavens was as useless as it was pointless, so Braylon had no choice but to complain to himself, fully aware that mentioned trouble was part his fault for choosing such self-destructive path.

"Well..." He clapped his hands together and got up from the sand. "Crying won't solve anything. I better start..."

"_That's the spirit._"

"Sure, if only I knew from where..."

Braylon decided to take a look around himself so that he could discover something more about the place.

"Looks like... a tropical paradise..."

When he turned around, he saw a green forest distant about half an hour of walk from the beach. The trees made his assumption about his whereabouts being a tropical paradise invalid. Still, it looked very inviting for our teenager, as forests like that were a rare sight on Pandora.

He sighed. "Maybe a walk will clear my mind..."

"_While you walk, please consider how you placed so much trust in a being whose primary role is to annihilate you. Walk, and taste the irony._"

* * *

One of the most frequent stories on Pandora revolves around trees. Pandora, being a desert for most of the time, left no place for vegetation of the common type, the type you could see on most Earth-like planets. Instead, said planet, and its moon, developed a rather strange wildlife, one that horrified even the first scientists who tried to analyze it. But of course, you say, it is logical for each planet in the universe to develop unique lifeforms, such is the law of evolution.

Consider the following. There are countless planets out there that share Pandora's characteristics, yet almost none of them developed lifeforms Pandora had. Animals with splitting jaws that allows them to devour things ten times bigger than their own head, semi-intelligent spores that don't serve as means for reproduction, carnivorous plants that caused heated debates in scientific communities about chaning their classification to animals despite having traits of a plant. The list goes on.

Some conspiracy theories point out the fact that there is no connection between species that would make a logical food chain, because two thirds of Pandorian wildlife is formed from extremely territorial apex predators that feed on anything their jaws can bite on, as an argument for it being born in labs and not on the planet itself. A Skag, a type of Pandorian canine, is so diverse and senseless, that the name Skag is just a blanket term to describe many subtypes of these alien dogs. For example, a Skag Spitter is the only Skag with the ability to spit out gobs of corrosive goo, despite having no evolutionary reason, and sense, to do so. For what purposes would someone made such dangerous wildlife on a planet-sized wasteland remains, and most likely will remain, unknown.

But we digress. The goal was to explain why trees make such big importance in Pandorian stories. Since Pandora is a desert, it is very unlikely a settler will find one without careful searching or plain luck. You can imagine the marvel, or terror, Pandora-born people face when they see this harmless giant. Even more so when they are illiterate, a social problem that is very prevalent in such backwater planets.

For Braylon, who traveled beyond Pandora, trees got the least of his attention, focusing instead on light gymnastics to test his newest enhancements, courtesy of the PDA. Eventually the demonic voice roared again and he agreed to its offer. He would test his stamina, stubbornness and skills, get in shape so to speak, and in turn he would get his equipment back.

"_Show me, mortal. Show me why should I pick you instead of someone else._"

(Ratchet and Clank: Size Matters – Pokitaru: The Kidnapping)

"_Start with that tree._"

A fallen tree blocked Braylon's path. The only way he could pass was either with a jump or sliding below the trunk. He went for a quick slide followed by jumping over a rock that came after. Every movement was executed with precision and efficiency. There was no useless displays of ability, no pointlessly wasted energy.

"_You take way too long, mortal. One of my brothers would crush you before you even got a chance to do anything._"

Braylon wasn't offended, being adapted to harsh words from his brutal training at the hands of his uncle on Pandora. Ignoring the commentary, he kept running forward until he reached a wall.

"_Climb it as fast as you can._"

Activating the PDA, he materialized his Holo Sabre, the orange-colored holographic tool that shot out of the device like a claw in an animal's paw, jumped and stabbed the hard rock. There was no need for extreme force, as the solid light cut a hole in the wall with the efficiency of a warm knife when cutting butter. With his free hand he grabbed a small rock that stuck out. After that he removed the Sabre and repeated the process until he reached the top.

"_You wasted a lot of time there. Do you think you will have that much luck when my brothers start chasing you? Honestly, I am disappointed._"

"Why don't you do it, then?!" Asked the irritated Vault Hunter.

"_I would rather leave that task to hopeless mortals._"

"You are such a prick."

"_And you are a filthy mortal. Get used to it._"

The bright orange light, the same that appeared on the beach, came once more, and once more it brought a loot chest. Braylon opened it and found a strange-looking pistol. After a brief examination, he found an even stranger insignia on the barrel: UAC EMG. He had no idea what that meant but it was easy to tell that he wasn't pleased.

"This isn't my revolver." He frowned. "I want my revolver!"

"_Do I look like charity to you? Be happy with what you got. Its owner has no use of it. Not now, at least._"

"I. Want. My. Revolver."

The voice sighed. "_Foolish humans. Foolish and greedy humans. Alright, but first get some clothes on. The last thing I need is to be associated with a predator who can't control his carnal urges, haunting the forests and traumatizing children._"

His eyes widened at the voice's hint. It was true. He was still butt-naked! This whole time!

"Crap! Can't you just teleport some?!"

"_Sure, do you want some tea with that? How about a cake?_"

"Alright, alright! Just stop with the sarcasm."

"_There is a human hunter below you. Here is your opportunity._"

He nodded and walked until he reached the edge, all the while holding the unwanted pistol. There truly was a human hunter below him, probably searching for animals. He wore a simple green shirt, light brown pants and black shoes.

Thanking God for him and the hunter being alone with no one else in sight, he quickly murmured an apology for the stunt he was about to pull. Why, for he simply jumped down and delivered a flying kick at the man's face, laying him like a rug.

"I just knocked a man unconscious. Naked and in the middle of the forest." He said in disbelief. "And for clothes nonetheless. I can't believe I fell so low."

After stripping the man down to his shoes, leaving only his gun, Braylon quickly dressed up to cover himself from the world. No one needed to see his shame.

"_Let's see how fast you run. Turn left, then run until you reach the cliff. Be a good dog, and you may get a biscuit._"

Cursing silently as he turned, Braylon went into a restless sprint towards the cliff. His enhancements, coupled with his skills, granted him envious stamina, seen only in olympic athletes. Funny, considering the fact that his body belonged to the "average" category.

The cliff and the loot chest were real, as was the "reward" he received. His family heirloom, the revolver named Unforgiven, and a Shield, a device that forms a barrier which absorbs all physical damage the user would have taken instead, The Bee. There was also some ammunition for the revolver.

"_Here, enjoy your piece of antiquity._"

"I will, no thanks to you."

For the Shield to work, it had to be attached somewhere on the user's body, mostly belt. Because Braylon had none, he decided to store the heirloom and the Shield in the PDA by activating a light on said device which scanned the items only to make them disappear.

**New items stored in ECHO inventory. Updating systems.**

(MadWorld – Get It Up!)

"_Oh-ho, looks like the inhabitants have the burning desire to meet the stranger._"

"What are you talking about?" He asked before hearing an angry growl coming from the bushes behind him. It reminded Braylon of a bear, despite him never seeing one in his life. The vegetation that hid the bear was easily ripped out of the dirt and torn apart, freeing the way for a creature Braylon was sure it was no normal animal.

It was large, possibly larger than "normal", although judging by the appearance, Braylon started to think it was more of a lookalike instead of an actual bear. A twisted parody of the respected Earth being, with pitch-black fur emitting smoke of the same color, red eyes and a white exoskeleton in the form of a bone-like mask as well as bony spikes on the back and arms.*****

"Great." He whined. "Another mad scientist I have to kill. As if the galaxy wasn't full of them."

The monster, as if on clue, immediately lunged at the teenager with the intention of breaking his spine with sharp teeth.

"Holy..." He jumped sideways then rolled back on his feet. "What did I do to piss you off?"

"_That's no animal, fool!_"

"_What?_"

"_Here is your next challenge. Everything up to now was nothing but a warm up. Now let's see how you handle the closest thing to a demon this world can offer._"

"_What?! _Shit!"

Braylon was so concentrated on the conversation that he paid little attention to the creature's arm swipe strong enough to toss him several meters away.

"That was... one hell of a punch..." Braylon commented as he rose to his feet. The shirt and skin now had bloody claw marks. At the same time the creature stood on its hind legs, something unthinkable for a quadruped. "But it'll take a lot more than that to bring me down."

Tightly gripping the pistol, he shoot three bullets at the beast. He was surprised when he saw energy bullets coming out of the barrel and melting bits of flesh in its abdomen.

"Energy weapon?"

The steaming, painful wounds made it roar in rage and agony. One more bullet to the leg and the creature fell to the ground. Braylon took the opportunity to rush towards its head, point the barrel at its forehead and fire until the head became nothing more than a pile of half-melted brains, bones and flesh. It twitched and growled all this time, hopelessly trying to cling to its life.

"Phew, it's over." He wheezed. "Looks like I was wrong about you." He spoke to the gun as if it were a living thing. "Hm?" The creature's corpse slowly dissolved into smoke in front of his eyes.

"It's... dissolving?"

"_This was not a living creature in the same way as mortals are. Negative emotions in mortal form, yet deprived of mortal weaknesses._"

Braylon gulped. Living embodiments of emotions? It was something too hard to believe. Then again, he wasn't the one to talk. After everything he had been through, after seeing Hell before his time, he came to a point where he would believe into anything if he saw it. His mind returned to reality when he walked towards the cliff and noticed a, seemingly tiny wooden village on the coast. Village meant people and people meant information. The first thing he needed to do was to learn something more about this world and its solar system. Then there was that... thing... that attacked him. He must know more if he wanted to avoid unpleasant surprises in the future.

With a snort he thumbed his nose and into the dangerous wilderness he ventured, with the goal of finding a way to reach that settlement.

* * *

**FACTIONS: - basically all groups that the MC had met up until certain point in time. Whenever the MC comes in contact with new factions, it will be recorded in here. Like I said, nothing special but I feel like it is a nice little touch. Faction skills are set of skills that are shared among the members of that faction. This is mostly for adding RPG-esque feeling to the story, but have no big effect on the combat itself, as it would be very limiting. However, if, for example, there is a creature made of electricity then it is only logical for it to be immune to electricity. If said creature has only, for example, shock resistance, then it means it can still be killed with electricity, but it will be harder than, say, killing it with regular bullets.**

**1)** Legions of Hell – "_It was supposed to be our greatest achievement yet. Get in, find the Vault, kill whatever was locked in there, grab the loot and get out... and now I learn that I unleashed an eternity of hatred on all of creation, on all that is mortal, in every reality out there. A threat that is far too big to handle. Lucky me._" (Increased resistance to all damage, bonus ethereal damage)

**2) **Creatures of Grimm – "_Ah. I remember the days when these creatures used to be relevant. It was long time ago, when humans were savages with fire. One of our greatest creations, you know? Developed by our most powerful brothers to serve as our extended hand, a disease that was almost able to wipe out all mortals from existence! But then the Enemy started playing dirty, introducing new knowledge to that filth, evening the odds. Now, when humans are savages with gadgets, the Creatures of Grimm became more of an annoyance than anything else, cockroaches if you will. For us, not for them. For humanity they are still a threat... somehow._" (Ability to acquire multiple bonuses with age, ability to track humans who experience negative emotions)

* * *

**PDA BIOPEDIA: - this is a section where I will put entries regarding creatures encountered through the story. Whenever there is a new animal/creature/whatever that may or may not be a threat, it will go here. Below is an example of how it will probably look like.**

***Entry #1:** Ursa

**Type: **Grimm – Beast

**Faction:** Creatures of Grimm

**Description:** "_If an Ursa has any purpose, then it is definitely to serve as an example of how my brothers had little to no sense of creativity. Not to mention that the enemy could probably sue us for copyright and win._"

* * *

**ARSENAL: - here go all items used by MC, will be updated with each new item**

**a) Pistol: **Unforgiven (Borderlands), Energy Pistol

**b) Shield: **The Bee


	3. Nobody's Savior

(Brandon Fletcher – Cobblestone Village)

The road to safe haven that was the village was long, with lots of required gymnastics for our young Vault Hunter, mostly because he was in the middle of a forest where it was unlikely that someone would build a road. Thankfully there was no threat in sight the whole time, especially not something akin to the creature he killed earlier. There would be a wild animal or two during his journey, mostly deer or wild boars, but they were too peaceful to pose a threat to a fighter of Braylon's caliber.

It was afternoon when Braylon finally reached the village. The sun, while not in its brightest, still gave enough light to increase the beauty of the already marvelous landscape. It was neither too hot or too cold, but moderate enough for the locals to wear shorts or go swimming. The houses, a backbone of every settlement, were made entirely out of wood. Not a single one of them stood out in any way shape or form, as if everyone decided to copy the design of others. Sure, there was one on the far left that was a bit larger, and the one on his right looked so small that he could say for certainty that it only had one room, but it didn't really make a big difference. An art lover or historian would immediately start comparing the village with a medieval one from Earth in times long gone.

The only thing made of stone was one small, straight road leading seemingly to the docks, the one on which he currently stood, connecting every single house in town with even smaller, deviating roads, thus forming alleyways that spread all over the place. A well acted as the main core of the village, as it stood at an approximate distance between the docks and the entrance. The key word here is acted, because wherever Braylon looked, he would only find a couple or so villagers minding their business. Something rather strange for a town with that many houses.

Let's also not forget the existence of the docks, for while small, it would be a good explanation for the lack of men... if only there were any signs that indicated the presence of ships anywhere near the village. He would gladly go around and ask, but it seemed that the villagers weren't very fond of strangers. Whenever he would look, or even glance slightly, someone, they would either frown or walk behind whatever protection they had at the moment, be it wall, door or window.

When he arrived at the well, an old man had the courage to walk up to the stranger. If Braylon had to guess, it was probably the village elder. The long, white beard and hair, coupled with expensive-looking red toga, brown sandals and an even browner stick, were all the evidence he needed.

"Stranger." The man's hostile pair of brown eyes was directed at him. Despite being old, his voice held that strict, commanding tone that would make a common man tremble. "Are you the Huntsman we waited? The Huntsman that should have arrived from Vale a week ago?"

"Huntsman?" Braylon confusingly stared back. "I think you confused me for someone else, old man."

"You are not a Huntsman?" Braylon's response removed a portion of that anger. "Then who, and what, are you?"

"Just a guy who is kinda lost and has no idea where he is."

It should be noted that Braylon spoke with such confidence that surprised several people who watched the ongoing conversation. Even the elder noticed it, and commented.

"I see..." He stroke his beard while his eyes went down on his left hand for a moment. Braylon knew that he was looking at either his device, or the symbol carved into his skin and flesh, or both. "You... you hold yourself like an experienced warrior..."

"_A warrior. Go figure._"

"And yet you are not a Huntsman..."

"That, I'm not." Braylon nodded several times.

"Why have you come here?"

"Like I said, I am lost. I... am on a journey and... I need all the information I can get on this area."

While he couldn't see it, it was obvious that the elder had a smile on his face.

"Say, perhaps are you willing for... a compromise?"

He frowned. "A compromise?"

It wasn't the first time he heard that word, or its synonyms for that matter. Whenever someone needed a scapegoat for some dirty job, whether it be killing thy neighbor or hunting down a creature just for the sake of it, he would be the fool who would conveniently appear for that person to abuse.

When the old man was about to explain in detail the exchange of favors between the two parties, two gunshots, followed by cheers, echoed across the village. It was a sign for the villagers, who scattered in all directions, seeking a safe shelter that would protect them from whatever was coming their way. Only Braylon and the old man remained on their places, the former confused while the latter frowning more than humanly possible.

"What's going on?"

"Hmm... trouble..."

It was then when he saw them. A group of five people, four men and one woman, walking towards them with big smiles on their faces. What made Braylon think of them as being members of a gang was the fact that all of them wore black sleeveless jackets with small silver spikes on the shoulders, presumably to give the appearance of someone who is better off leaving alone to do their business.

Apart from having no other feature that would suggest a bigger position in the hierarchy, other than weird fashion choices and even weirder hair and eye colors, they were led by one men with purple dreads, holding a triple-barreled flintlock gun. A design that Braylon had never seen before, but also one that made him die of laughter in his mind.

"_Seriously? Flintlock gun? Are we in 1850s?_"

"Feast your eyes on this, boys." Purple Dreads smirked. "Seems like our old man here is taking a walk."

"Where is my grandchild?" He demanded calmly. "I want to see her."

Purple dreads pushed Braylon to his right and reached the elder.

"You are in no position to make demands, got it? Now where is the money?"

Braylon felt the need to interrupt the conversation.

"Hey, fuckhead." Everyone turned to face the teenager. "I don't like the way you pushed me. Tell you what, I will give you a chance to aplogize. Then you will step away from that old man and give him back his daughter."

Purple Dreads stared dumbly for a second. A small grin appeared on his face before nodding and turning to see the reactions of his group. Two guys, one with short green hair and one with a brown undercut, approached Braylon, clearly confident in their strength, and punched him in the stomach, making him kneel down.

"Now, as I was saying..."

"Heh." Braylon chuckled. "I barely felt that, you know?" He got up with speed that shouldn't be possible for a man who got a fist in the stomach, so it is no surprise that he managed to shock his attackers. "It seems to me that I need to give different arguments!" He punched the one with the brown undercut with such force that he sent him flying towards Purple Dreads. The two crashed and fell down like a bag of potatoes.

Angered, the mook with green hair tried to punch Braylon again. "Looks like you need a lesson too!" The Vault Hunter crouched and when he got up, he delivered a powerful uppercut that dislocated the man's jaw while also making him fall unconscious. The remaining mooks drew their weapons, both firearms, and fired at his direction.

"Son of a..." Braylon dived forward while also materializing the Jakobs revolver, Unforgiven. "You asked for it!" He fired two rapid shots, one for each mook, killing them with well-placed bullets in their chests. Because it was a Jakobs, a corporation known for making powerful weapons, the shots pierced through their meat, ripping away chunks and splashing blood. "When it just needs to be dead, it needs to be a Jakobs" indeed.

"Get off me!" Yelled the man with purple dreads as he shoved the lackey from himself. Getting up, he grabbed the flintlock gun. "Now you've-!" Before his warning could be finished, his gun fell into pieces, courtesy of Braylon's own firearm. "H-hey now... let's not get nasty..." Braylon calmly reached the leader and pistol-whipped him on the forehead, drawing warm blood that instantly covered a portion of the man's face. Pointing the steaming barrel at his jaw, Braylon asked a question he was sure he would get an answer to.

"Who are you working for?"

"I-I-I'm my own boss!"

Another smack to the face. "You, your own boss? Little fish like you don't have what it takes to be their own boss, much less someone else's." He mocked. "So you better tell me who is your real boss and where he is before I break every bone in your body."

"O-okay." The man sighed, trying to hold back tears. "Okay. W-We are members of Hutton's Gang. You must've heard about us, right?"

"Cut the crap and get to the point."

"Alright! We are a tribe that constantly moves around Sanus to find a village we can raid to gather supplies. Found this village and... said "what the heck, let's go for it"."

Braylon turned his to see the elder, who stood in his place, apparently unmoved by the acts of violence performed by the Vault Hunter. "Is this true?"

"Yes, I'm afraid. They are led by a good-for-nothing criminal named Duke Hutton. From what I heard, he is a convict that escaped from the prisons of Vale few years ago."

"Vale?"

The elder raised an eyebrow. "You don't know Vale?"

"Afraid not."

"Have you been living under a rock?" Purple Dreads asked innocently.

"You shut up! Nobody asked you anything!"

"But... Vale!"

"What about it?"

"It's one of the four biggest cities on Remnant, dude! You can't "not know" about Vale!"

"_Remnant? Never heard of such planet... and there is no data on my PDA about it either._"

"_Because this is not your reality._"

"_...What?_"

"_Apparently that rift led you to a reality different than your own._"

"_You knew? You knew and you didn't tell me?!_"

The man with the purple dreads, seeing how his captivator's face not only twisted in various expressions, but also turned a dark shade of red, then paled, only to return back to red, started feeling insecure about his physical health and asked fearfully: "Uh, you alright?" Seemingly returning back to the world of the living, Braylon replied: "Shut up! Can't you see I'm having a conversation?!" The man, now that he received what he thought to be a hint for an upcoming psychotic breakdown, turned his head towards the town elder, who shrugged in response. Braylon pistol-whipped the man for a third time, knocking him out, and spoke with the elder.

"You... I guess your "compromise" had something to do with this trash, right?"

"Yes." He nodded, ignoring or seemingly unnoticing Braylon's violent act. "I was honestly doubting your abilities before, but you proved your worth. So what is your answer? Will you help our village getting rid of Hutton's gang and save my granddaughter?"

"In turn I want an answer to every question I ask."

"You got yourself a deal."

Braylon put hands on his hips and sighed. "Alright. Let's see what our little birdie has here."

"Y... you are searching him?"

"Why not? If he has something that can help me find the hideout, than it will be more than necessary."

Looting the unconscious gang member gave more fruits than Braylon hoped for. Apart from finding custom-made bullets that he couldn't use, he also found a functioning, collapsible holographic tablet in one pocket.

"I've never seen something like this."

"Where are you from again?"

"A far, far away place. And, please, don't insult me."

"I apologize."

Braylon flipped the device in his hands, trying in vain to find a way to open it. "So what is this thing?"

"That is a Scroll. A very useful device easy to handle because it can be collapsed, much like a scroll made of paper, hence the name Scroll."

"Hmm..."

"I suggest you take that one. Out there, a Scroll can make a difference between life and death."

Convinced, Braylon decided to keep the device, or rather, its technology. He placed the Scroll in his right hand while activating the scanning lights of his PDA. The device disappeared in front of the elder's eyes, who was intrigued to see the technology at work.

"If I may ask, where did you put the Scroll?"

"Nowhere. I simply digitalized it, broke it down and let my own device absorb both the technology and its functions."

"Amazing. I never saw something like that in my whole live."

Braylon grinned confidently. "Yeah, that's why I kick ass."

* * *

The feature that allowed Braylon's device to absorb the Scroll and integrate its technology into itself is called Tech Assimilator. Basically what it does is digistructing a piece of technology, storing it in the database and picking the parts unknown to the PDA, which will then be absorbed and added to the alredy long list of features. If the technology in question contains some kind of database, then the PDA will take the data and add it to its own. For this process to succeed, the assimilated database must contain new information, previously unknown, otherwise it will get deleted, as if it never were there in the first place.

Assimilating the "Scroll", as the elder called it, proved to be the best decision Braylon made that day. The plethora of information he acquired was extremely useful. Aside from learning the location of Duke's hideout, he also received some personal info about Purple Dreads, called, in fact, "Purple Dreads" Martin, some guy who went to juvenile because he "accidentally" stabbed a teacher.

In short, a bandit.

You see, bandit used to be a term given to brigands and petty marauders, who infested mountains of Europe and deserts of America. These organized criminals realized they could get a penny without sweat, so they went for the line of lesser resistance. Living from today to tomorrow, knowing that sooner or later they would hang from the first tree they come across, this wretched waste of society was willing to do everything to survive, even if it meant acting like parasites. Nowdays, it became a blanket term to describe gangs, clans or even tribes formed of nothing but murderers, thieves, psychopaths, arsonists and midgets scattered on outlaw planets like Pandora. Being a bandit meant being a threat as much as everything else, meaning that peaceful inhabitants were free to kill you, regardless of their moral codex. Not even nature could bring the "survival of the fittest" law to its extremes like desperate humans on a deathworld.

Born and raised in such environment meant that an individual would receive a very unique kind of mentality. Behavior that would be condemned as savage on a civilized planet is mundane on others. But even then, few are the planets where death is embraced with open arms like on Pandora. In fact, death is so common that people simply shrug when their relatives die. The sharpest among the audience will soon understand what... "possibilities" such mentality can bring. Just to name one: a mercenary is better paid than your average local town mayor.

The young Vault Hunter observed the bandit camp from a small hill located near it. Being in the middle of a forest, the camp was surrounded on all sides with thick vegetation. Intelligence was something Hutton's Gang had plenty of in its ranks, seeing that they built a wooden stockade, complete with a gate, to defend themselves from unexpected ambushes. For Braylon, it simply meant that he had to deal with smarter-than-average bandits.

As for the Gang itself, there were only few tents, three small and one large, suggesting that it was a relatively small group. The larger tent was probably the living quarters for the boss himself, Duke Hutton, and quite possibly the girl's prison.

"_Are you going to waste the whole night just sitting there and doing nothing?_"

"_This is harder than it looks, you know? I need to save the girl._"

"_That mortal never specified in which condition he wanted to see her..._"

(HOME - Scanlines)

Slapping his head slightly, Braylon used the darkness to approach the camp's stockade. With a whisper, he ordered the PDA to activate the infrared vision, which was done with a blink of his eyes. The energy pistol proved to be rather useful against the stockade, since it made a noise much quieter than his revolver would., along with burning a hole large enough to fit through. Braylon sneakily infiltrated inside the camp. Unfortunately a guard spotted him and pointed the gun at his forehead before he could stand up.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" The man grinned.

Braylon tagged along and raised his hands slowly. Before the guard could do anything else, he materialized his Holo Sabre and turned the guard into a cripple for life with a quick swipe. Knowing that, should the guard scream, he would alert the whole camp, the teenager finished the job by placing the blade below the guard just as it fell, resulting in a rather gruesome death.

Since plans never go as they should, another guard, a woman, noticed Braylon and fired a shot in the air with her rifle. He cursed before dashing towards the nearest cover. A stray bullet hit the barrel, his cover, and made it explode, releasing the water that was stored within. Braylon returned the favor with a shot of his own, melting a hole in the guard's stomach large enough to see through.

The proverbial Hell broke loose as the cacophony of screams filled the quiet night. There was profanity, there was rage, there was fear. Braylon quickly ran away from the scene before more problems came searching for trouble. It wasn't long before the boy heard an alarm that would suddenly change everything, immediately followed by a loud crash and multiple gunshots.

"Beowolves! Beowolves!"

"_Heh... looks like someone else is going to take care of the bandits._"

Proceeding towards the bigger tent, where Duke was supposed to hide both himself and the girl, he was able to see the unraveling carnage at full extent. Through the now destroyed gate, dozens of creatures resembling humanoid wolves rushed into the camp, hastily mutilating as many humans as possible. What surprised Braylon was the same color theme he saw on that bear-like monster applied to these ones as well. The similarities were so astounding that the only difference Braylon could came up with was the physical shape.*****

But Braylon wasn't there to admire the modus operandi of someone else, he had a job to do. So he ventured further towards the larger tent. Since everyone was busy with everyone else, he had the freedom to sneak around the camp without any problem.

There he was, near the entrance. A lot of commotion could be heard coming from the inside. Something shattering, followed by screams of both man and woman, ending in gunshots. All accompanied with loud, rhythmic clip-clopping of hooves. As Braylon was about to remove the curtains, something suddenly crashed into him like a speeding train, sending him flying several meters backwards.

He was sure that a rib or two had been broken by the impact alone. The weight of the object above him made it harder for him to breathe. When he raised his head slightly, he saw the weight, which was nothing else than a decapitated corpse that blocked his view.

Something tore the tent's fabric, clip-clopped some more and let out a bull-like cry, a cry familiar to him. Braylon, still stunned by the violent clash, slowly removed the decapitated corpse from himself. Some of the blood that still poured out stained the borrowed clothes.

"_Oh, fuck..._"

We will never know for sure if Braylon was aware of it, or at least able to understand his actions, but his eyes started tearing up as a feel of incomprehensible dread suddenly bombarded his psyche the more and more he stared into the demon that chased him before he escaped through the rift. Now that same demon stood only few meters away from him, tall and threatening just like the first time they met. Its teeth were bloody red, with bits of bone and viscera stuck between them. A man screamed as he foolishly stabbed his knife into the leg of the giant. He met his end when said giant picked him up like a doll, turned upside down and ripped him in half by stretching the legs.******

Braylon's mind almost reached critical failure, as he desperately tried to figure out how did the demon got in the same reality as him. Words slipped away from both his mind and mouth as he mumbled and crawled backwards. What puzzled him more was the fear he felt, despite, he thought, him already having an acquaintance with Hell and demons.

"_W-why d-d-do I f-feel this f-f-fear?_"

"_It's only a natural reaction when a prey sees its predator._"

"_S-still..._"

The two never broke eye contact. While Braylon was terrified beyond reason, the demon desired for nothing more than carnage, ready to snap him in two like a twig. He wasn't the only one who noticed the elephant in the room. Both the "Beowolves" and the bandits became aware of the terrifying presence. And while bandits experienced same paralyzing fear like Braylon did, the black-furred things wasted no time in assaulting the demon, who proved to be more than a match for each of them.

"_T-this is my chance._"

Braylon knew that, in his current state, should he go against the demon, he would definitely loose. That is why he decided to skip past it, go to the tent and find the girl. While there was no doubt that none of the attackers would even begin to scratch it, they would definitely provide enough time for him to find what he came for and get out.

A girl chained to the bed, like a dog to its house, in the middle of the mess that was inside the tent, mumbled and cried, traumatized, as she continuously stared in one fixated point without even noticing his arrival. With his Holo Sabre he destroyed the chain and approached the woman, who began screaming and struggling as soon as he touched her. Having no other choice, he was forced to knock her out with one punch so that he could pick her up and remove himself before things went out of control.

He returned to the hole in the stockade he made earlier, squeezed through along with the woman and started running. Only this time, however, he decided to take another route, as going uphill would only slow him down. Not even five minutes passed and he already heard the hellish hooves fastly approaching behind him. Cursing slightly, Braylon prepared himself for yet another chase through the woods.

* * *

He wasn't sure how much time had passed since he last heard the restless clip-clopping and to be honest, he didn't really care. As long as he was on a "safe distance" from the demon, he thought, everything would be fine. The girl was still in his arms, unconscious and unable to perceive anything that happened around her.

They were currently at the edge of a small clearing, surrounded on all sides by the forest. Large rocks were scattered all over the place, some as tall as a human while others barely reaching one's knees. Having found one rock to sit on, Braylon decided to put the girl down as he would wait some time to gather his strength. Contrary to popular belief, running around the forest while holding another human can be pretty tiring, even for individuals with cybernetic enhancements.

It was only when he stopped running that he take a good look at the girl. She was tall, bit taller than him, with long brown hair and, he checked, green eyes. Everything about her screamed average human to him... except a small pair of bear ears sticking out from her head.

"What the..."

The ears were soft to the touch, much like those of a real animal. He had to check it himself, lest he would start thinking he was hallucinating. His fingers pulled one ear softly, just to be sure. They were real.

And they grew out of a human's head.

"Oh boy." He hid his face in his palms. "What have I got myself into?"

"_Hah! An even lesser being than a mortal!_"

"_She looks human to me._"

"_Looks can be deceiving. Don't get fooled by this pathetic excuse for a mortal. Her race is even lower than that of humans!_"

He raised his left arm and stared the carved symbol. It was still there, painful and grotesque, just as when it appeared back then. Whenever he would make contact with the entity, the five-pointed star would start bleeding. The more it bled, the more pain he would feel.

His eyes then turned to the moon and his jaw almost dropped. This planet's moon was shattered! One big chunk of the astronomical body was completely missing, shattered into tiny pieces that drifted away, yet remained eternally frozen in place. It was a completely mind-boggling experience for Braylon, as it clearly violated the laws of nature once he remembered how the world map of Remnant looked like. As for the stars, they were rather mundane and displayed no abnormalities.

"What is wrong with this fucking place?" He whined before hearing once again the cry he was sure he had shook off back in the forest.

(Dark Souls 3 – Dragonslayer Armor)

"_H-How did he find me?!_"

"_You still haven't figured it out?_"

The Vault Hunter immediately got up and materialized his Unforgiven. He knew that he had little to no chance of success. Fighting aliens, beasts and battalions is one thing. Fighting a demon, well...

Nevertheless, he also knew that, if he hadn't deal with the the threat, he would never be free from it. So he prepared for the worst once he heard the hoofsteps coming closer.

"_That symbol on your arm. Others can track you down because of it._"

"_Are you serious?!_"

"_Of course._"

"_And you didn't tell me?!_"

"_You never bothered to ask._"

One distant rock suddenly exploded as the demon smashed it with a punch. Some tiny pieces went so far that they reached Braylon.

"_Hiding and running are pointless now._"

"_Are you telling me to fight that monster?! The bandits earlier didn't do shit against it!_"

Another rock exploded just as Braylon went out of his hiding spot, in search for another one far away from the girl.

"_That's because they don't have what you do._"

"_Which is?_"

"_Just focus on the fight._"

"_Easy for you to say..._"

His cover blew apart as one large red hand easily smashed through it and went for his chest, throwing him out in the open. He bounced like a rock when tossed at the sea before he finally stopped, his face buried into dirt and grass. The gun fell somewhere away from his hand.

"_Damn... that strength..._"

If he could speak, he would tell you that he felt like he got hit by a rampaging bull, only ten times worse. Breathing became even harder as he started coughing blood. He thought that one of his lungs was probably pulverized. Nothing that his PDA couldn't heal, given a certain amount of time. But time was a luxury he couldn't currently afford, as he had to roll sideways to avoid getting burned by a green fireball. Every movement brought him great pain in the chest, to the point that he was unable to move properly. The hoofsteps came closer and closer.

Braylon raised his head just enough to see the giant's fist getting coated with green fire. Said hand would then grab him by the left hand and lift him up. The pain he received from the burning hand was enough to make him scream as loud as he could. It felt like he was burning alive, despite the physical injuries being nonexistent. A type of pain that went beyond the abilities of a simple nocireceptor found throughout the animal kingdom. Him being able to remain conscious was nothing short of a miracle.

"_No... I must... resist..._" He was even unable to form complete thoughts. "_I... can feel it..._"

"_This is so pathetic, it is painful to watch._"

For a moment he thought it would be the end of his short life. He would die at the hands of the embodiment of death that stood before him, who was enjoying every bit of the show, finding it rather amusing. For Braylon though, it wasn't fun, it was an experience he simply wished he would never experience again. Still, he knew that, should he survive, he would relive such a thing countless of times, only with different stage and actors.

That is, if he survived.

As a sort of cosmic justice of some kind, his mind rolled back all his past deeds, his crimes, his heroic acts, everything suddenly rushed in front of his eyes. There were times when he simply wished for his life to end, to just die somewhere and be forgotten by the rest of humanity, just like many others had before him. Everytime it happened, the irony would kick in, and he would immediately wish for the exact opposite.

The same thing happened now.

"_No... I can't die... not like this! Noooooooo!_"

There are times when people near death get a surge of adrenaline where their will to live far surpasses their current state, giving overwhelming strength to ensure even the smallest odds of survival. Unlike others of his kind, Braylon didn't feel the fear of death. No, he had the confirmation of life after death before he even died. But the fear of returning back to that place, when he just got out, was far stronger than any pain this demon could inflict upon his body. It only required a fraction of a flashback for his fighting spirit to burst back to life.

With a mental order sent directly to the PDA, the materialized Holo Ripper through the red palm and into the arm. He could hear cracking of bones and tearing of flesh as the demon let out a monstrous, ear-splitting scream. It released its grip on his arm, allowing him to fall down. As he did so, the still activated holographic chainsaw split its arm in two, showering its user in green blood and gore.

Braylon decided that the demon's suffering wasn't enough, so he pierced its right thigh till he was sure he reached the bone. With a quick slash to his left, thus violently releasing the tool from the flesh, the giant kneeled before Braylon, now screaming even louder. But as he went in for the finisher, he saw at the corner of his right eye the other, healthy, fist quickly approaching.

He was sure that the blow not only disintegrated his right ear, but also fractured his skull. He couldn't even feel falling down on the hard dirt, as the concussion screwed up his senses. The only thing he was able to do was to roll until he could see the starry night sky above him, or rather, a messed up image his eyes were able to catch.

The demon made sure that the human got his wrath-filled message, as it stomped full force until it reached his body. It was so loud that even his ears were able to pick up the noise, despite being occupied with a hellish buzzing sound. The blurry figure stood tall above him, and while he was unable to see its movements well, he was able to figure out its next move.

Stomp him to death.

It lifted one leg and quickly brought it down on him. Before it could do that, however, he materialized his Holo Sabre and held it upwards like a nail that was about to meet someone's foot.

The effect was immediate and expected. The creature, unable to see the surprise in time, brought its hoof right down the Sabre, which pierced said hoof and went so deep that it almost touched the knee. It screamed once more before moving the injured leg, loosing balance and falling backwards with an echoing thud.

"_This is my chance... I... need to..._"

Lifting yourself back on your feet with a concussion is quite hard. Braylon stood up, only to fall back down, just so he could rise once more. The strength was leaving him and his legs were failing to support his weight. He approached the demon, before tripping over something he failed to spot in time. Braylon fell on the demon's stomach. It felt like falling on concrete.

He materialized his Holo Ripper once again and used it to climb over the beast's body, stabbing once in a while, until he was sure he reached the head. While it was true that his vision was impaired, he was able to recognize the grotesque demonic head with two eyes staring back at him. With a mighty shout, or its close enough substitute, he rammed the chainsaw through its teeth and and skull, the tip emerging at the back of its skull. Its activation was the end for the demon, because it kept ripping and tearing through whatever was hidden inside.

"Fuck! You!" He yelled as he pulled upwards, finally splitting the skull in two. The meaty plop he heard afterwards was a sign of victory, so he moved away from the now-defunct demon and laid on a rock.

"_Man. My everything hurts._" He coughed. "_I... can finally rest... now..._"

Feeling as if a huge weight had been thrown from his back, the young Vault Hunter slowly closed his eyes, praying that this night wouldn't be his last.

* * *

**PDA Biopedia:**

***Entry #2:** Beowolf

**Type:** Grimm - Beast

**Faction:** Creatures of Grimm

**Description: **"_There were these two brothers of mine way back then. The older one had creativity, but lacked materials to create anything. The younger, on the other hand, had the materials, but lacked creativity. One day the older one stumbled upon a mortal female, we are talking about the days when we used to walk among mortals right after we lost, and followed her around. He waited for the perfect opportunity, turned himself into a wolf and assaulted the mortal. The result was the first, and also last, werewolf, who got killed by another mortal, courtesy of the Anathema. The younger one saw it all and decided to copy his brother, just to spite him. And thus the first Beowolf was born. Now that I think about it, there is some sort of irony in its name, don't you think?_"

* * *

****Entry #3:**Baron of Hell

**Type:** Demon

**Faction:** Forces of Hell

**Description:** "_You know, I always wonder why the so-called Dark Lord decided to leave these buffoons into the "royalty", instead of just using them as cannon fodder. Their intelligence is only a match for a brick... ugh... Sure, they are far tougher than any mortal, regardless of race, can ever hope to be, but that is pretty much it. Don't let the title fool you. While the title of "baron" could give you the image of someone who earned that position by being strong, there are brothers of mine who are far stronger out there. I suggest you strongly pray to Anathema that you never encounter them._"


	4. Reward and Punishment

Sleep is a state where both mind and body hibernate, though not in the true meaning of the word. This natural phenomenon is characterized by a drastic inhibition of muscles and senses. What makes sleep important is its curative purpose; to restore the body so that it can function properly. When applied to humans, a good sleep can rejuvenate even the most tired of the individuals. Even physical pain can falter with sleep.

Like with everything else, sleep has its weaknesses too. For example, if an individual experienced a heavy physical trauma, the chances of being well rested decrease drastically. That isn't to say that someone won't fall asleep. It just means that their sleeping session will be more akin to torture at best and a coma at worst. 

Another thing to look out for is trauma. Simply put, a trauma, of the psychological type, is a damage to one's psyche when they experience a distressing event for which they were unprepared for. While death is yet another natural occurrence, not many are mentally prepared to witness it, especially if death knocks on the door of someone beloved. The end result is trauma, often lead by things like depression.

Say, what would happen if someone got a combination of the above-mentioned problems? We, or at least I, can't say for sure, as it is rare for someone to experience such tragedy. To answer such question with facts, one needs personal experience. Take our teenager, the Vault Hunter known as Braylon, for example. His sleeping session had been nothing short of a tragedy in its pure form. The moment he would fall asleep, he would start having vivid nightmares that bordered on reality, waking him up with almost twice the speed. When awoke, he would have to fight back against a seemingly imminent coma, ignoring all sensory input coming from his surroundings. He would resist long enough to fall asleep once again, thus repeating the cycle.

And while a common mortal would most likely die from such wounds, Braylon only had to pass a hours-long Herculean task during which his PDA would send nanobots, chemicals and various other things to repair any and all damages his body received, ranging from torn muscles to broken bones. After he awoke for the seventh time, or so he thought, he found himself staring at a wooden ceiling while his body lay on something so soft that the most logical conclusion was a bed.

"_Where am I?_"

He moved his head around to acquire more information about his whereabouts. Everywhere he looked, he would see things made of wood. Wooden walls, wooden table, wooden chair, wooden door... There was no doubt about the quality though, as everything looked like it was made by professional hands. When his eyes instinctively turned to check his body, he was only able to see a large red blanket covering it. He moved the blanket and found out that he was naked once again.

"_This is really getting out of hand._" He sighed and lifted up his upper body. Bright sunlight coming from the window on the opposite side of the room blinded him temporarily before his eyes adjusted.

"_The sun is out already?_" He checked his PDA, which already adapted to display time of Remnant. "_Morning? What even happened?_"

"_You won, that's what happened. Even though calling it a victory would be insulting to everyone's intelligence... aside from stealing merit._"

Braylon's mind briefly flashed back to his hopeless fight against the giant red demon.

"_Is... is it dead?_"

"_No._"

"_What?! But I killed it! I know I did!_"

"_Ha! As if mortals are able to truly kill anything. Please, all you did was depriving my brother of a body._"

His hands started trembling again.

"_So... all that pain, that urge to keep fighting, the idea that I could defeat an immortal being... was all for nothing?_"

"_Of course! What, did you honestly think a worm like you could kill a being higher than yourself? Even your whole concept of killing is a farce._"

He clenched his teeth.

"_Ever since their creation, mortals were limited to destroying physical bodies. Anathema may love you, but I doubt he is foolish enough to allow you to kill each other in the true sense of the word. You are already enough of a problem as it is._"

"_So you are basically saying he will come back?_"

"_Oh, he will alright. For a decade or two. Perhaps longer. Until then, he will have to endure everyone's mocking and laughing. It will probably build enough hatred for him to torture you in the most painful of ways before he decides to send you back down here, where he will keep torturing you for the rest of eternity._"

His head fell down. "_Then what's the point in fighting anyways?_"

"_Unless you want to see your own kind suffer under the Dark Lord's rule..._"

"_...You really know how to push buttons._"

"_When you have a whole eternity, you get lots of time to practice many things._"

He sighed once again. "_Right._"

The wooden door suddenly opened by the very girl he went to save. Unlike him, she looked fresh and energetic, with a big smile on her face. That happiness turned into embarassment when she saw him sitting on the bad completely naked. Her face quickly became red as a tomato.

"O-oh, sorry... I didn't know..."

Braylon, not bothered by the situation at all, raised an eyebrow and asked for some clothes. She handed him a wooden bucket with all of his (borrowed) clothes. Before he forgot, he decided to ask for a belt. She went out of the room and returned five minutes later with a black leather belt.

"My grandpa said he would be happy if you take it. Looks good on you too."

He didn't respond. Instead, he stared at her pair of animal years. Something that she noticed.

"What? What is it?" She suddenly became very emotional. As if she waited to hear something from him.

"T... those..." He pointed at her ears. "Are real?"

Seemingly surprised by his question, she folded her arms and hummed.

"So what if they are?"

"_Why is she upset all of a sudden? Why do you have those?_"

"I'm a Faunus. Is that a problem?"

"Faunus?"

"Yeah, you know... cat ears, fox tail, horns... Faunus."

"I... I never saw something like that before."

Now it was her turn to stare back at him, before she broke into a fit of laughter.

"I can't." She laughed. "It's too much!"

"What?" He frowned. "What's so funny?"

The laughing girl went towards the door and vanished from his sight. After he got dressed, he went out of the room and downstairs, where he met the old man sitting at a large table.

"I see you're awake." He motioned Braylon to sit near him. "My granddaughter told me you... never saw a Faunus before."

He nodded. "Yes. The place I come from has no Faunus. I would rather not talk about it."

"Hmm..." The man stroke his beard. "Thank you for saving the only treasure I still have on this cruel world."

"About that, how did I get here?" The girl came out from nowhere and brought two glasses of water.

"Oh, she said she woke up on a rock, walked around and found you near a corpse of a monster that didn't look like a Grimm at all. She decided to bring you back to the village."

"_Heh, so much about being a hero._"

"But grandpa," she interrupted. "I'm telling you, there's no way that thing could have been a Grimm. Unless they finally decided to change their fashion choice."

Braylon raised an eyebrow. "Grimm?"

Now both looked at him surprised. "Don't tell me you never saw a Grimm either."

He shrugged. "What can I say, I was very sheltered when I was a little kid."

This was the proverbial walking on thin ice. Should the man figure out that he was selling fog, and he already looked suspicious, problems would never end. Both of them blinked but while the girl simply waved with her hand dismissively as she walked away, the old man seemed to grow even more suspicious. Braylon eventually decided to drop the act and tell him that he wasn't a native to the planet. The reaction, while not unexpected, wasn't unpleasant either. He simply required some proof, something that Braylon had in tons, and accepted it.

"You seem awfully calm for someone who told you that they are not from your planet."

"Understanding before judging is a virtue unknown to many. Besides, it would also explain why your injuries healed so quickly that even our doctor couldn't believe it."

"Wise words." He took a sip.

"You said you wanted answers, correct?"

"True. If I want to move around, I need to know at least the common knowledge."

The man sighed and leaned back on his chair.

"Where do I start?" He stroked his beard once more. "You must know that there are four major kingdoms on Remnant. These four shelters are Vacuo, Vale, Atlas and Mistral. Nothing but glorified carcasses of humanity, each with different cultures and mentalities. We are currently on the continent of Sanus, and the closest kingdom is Vale. The reason why so many never leave those damn walls are the Grimm, monsters who wish to make everyone's life as miserable as possible."

"Are the Grimm those things in black with white masks?"

"Correct."

"So... if I wish to see a library or do something important...?"

"Then you must go to Vale."

"Huh... but if you have so much troubles with Grimm, why don't you do something?"

"That's a Huntsman's job."

Braylon chuckled. "So, what? You gather people with guns and go hunting?"

"No, no. A Huntsman is a person who goes to those flashy academies where they learn how to fight those damn monsters."

"Interesting." He stood up. "I guess it's time for me to go, then."

"Wait!" Braylon stopped. "Hold on! I forgot something important! Something very important!"

The village elder suddenly rushed, as much as an old man can, towards a large wooden chest. He opened it and took out a weapon.

"This... some youth found this under a pile of bones in the forest yesterday. My hands are too old for this, but you... it might come handy to you."

Braylon took the gun in his hands. He couldn't believe his own luck when he recognized the weapon as a Jakobs shotgun made years ago, with a cylinder that could hold eight shells. It was no common weapon, but a Striker, a shotgun known for being extremely powerful. He was so happy that he couldn't help himself but smile, despite the weapon being empty.

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate it."

"Don't mention it. You saved my only grandchild after all."

The sudden commotion outside stopped their conversation. Braylon turned around and approached the window on the left of the door. He never had a chance to look outside as a black-furred hand shattered the glass and grabbed him by the throat, dragging him towards its owner who came to view soon after. It was the same type of creature that attacked the bandit camp. Now it was there, trying to forcefully infiltrate into the building through the tiny window with the intent of crushing his skull with a bite. Struggling, Braylon materialized Unforgiven and fired a shot right between its eyes. Not even the mask made of bone could protect it from the bullet at nearly point-blank range. The brains turned into a refined pinkish mist as the cranium exploded like a water balloon.

"_Almost tore my head off! Which reminds me..._" Braylon immediately materialized his Shield and attached it to the belt. It made a few beeping sounds before creating a barrier that surrounded his whole body.

"Grimm?!" The man trembled. "They never went this far!"

"Can you two hide somewhere?!"

A wall behind the old man came crashing down as another creature barged in like a wrecking ball. It was of the same physical design but with some additional features, such as angular skull and increased height. However the most notable addition were the claws on each hand which, unlike the rest of the bony armor, were dark red, almost like blood.*

Braylon swiftly took aim and fired a bullet into the Grimm's right shoulder. His Shield, known as The Bee, had a special ability that truly made it legendary. Should an owner use a gun while also having The Bee active, with its battery full, the Shield would amplify the bullet's power by a considerable margin. It is because of this ability that a generic, low-quality firearm can turn into a death dispenser when used by a professional.

And yet the bullet had enough force to break through the armor and into the flesh, but not enough to do serious damage. We are talking about a .44 revolver with enough amplified power to fire bullets that could easily compete against an anti-materiel rifle in terms of strength.

"Uh-oh."

The creature took a step back due to the power of the bullet. Then it decided to return the favor by charging at Braylon and smash him into the wall. Even if he felt no pain, thanks to the Shield absorbing all damage that he would have taken instead, he was still in a bad position. Being held by the throat by a bloodthirsty monstrosity was rather unpleasant for the teenager.

Braylon activated the Holo Ripper and shoved it to the Grimm's throat. Even the copious amounts of blood that fell from the wound, staining its shoulder and arm, wasn't enough to make it stop. Instead, the creature roared loudly before turning around and tossing him to the other side of the house.

"Okay, ouch. I felt that through my Shield..." He complained after his body hit the wall and then the ground.

"Grandpa!"

Braylon suddenly heard the Faunus girl's voice as she rushed forward towards the fallen elder. His gaze turned back to the Beowolf. It looked him, then the girl, as if having trouble to decide whom should it attack first. Since the girl was closer, she obviously became the primary target.

"No! Run!"

But it was too late. The Beowolf lunged at the two of them and mutilated their bodies with its red claws and large teeth. He swore he saw it chewing on an arm frantically, like a rabid dog.

"_Can't you fucking give me some ammo or something?!_"

"_I thought you would never ask. Here._"

A bright flash appeared at his right. This time it brought a large black case. Seeing that it was still occupied with the girl and her grandpa, he quickly opened it, took one of the six packs of shotgun shells, materialized the Striker and reloaded. The Beowolf turned around just as he finished to place the last shell into the cylinder.

It roared before tackling him to the ground. The claws tried furiously to breach his Shield and dig into his body, shaking him constantly as if he were a plaything. He pushed the Grimm slightly with his legs before firing a deafening shot at it torso. The Shield's battery wasn't full, so the shot served only for knocking it back and cracking the armor. It was only when The Bee recharged completely that the tables had suddenly turned.

Striker is a shotgun that earned its title because it had the means to back it up. With the damage output far stronger than a normal Jakobs shotgun, combined with increased accuracy and minimal bullet spread, you would get the Striker, a 12 gauge shotgun as accurate, and deadly, as a sniper rifle. When you compare a .44 bullet with an amplified 12 gauge shell, even the strongest revolver known to man will feel like a BB gun. So it's not a surprise when the next shot left a gaping hole where the Grimm's heart should have been. After all, such weapons were designed to deal with alien creatures, who are far stronger and resistant than the monstrosity in front of him.

"Not so tough now, huh?!" Even the Beowolf stared at its wound. He could see fear in its eyes.

Not that he cared after what it did.

Third shot detached the left hand, leaving behind a bloody mix of bone and torn muscles.

Click-clack.

"Fuck you!"

Fourth shot turned the right knee into dust. The Beowolf fell backwards, howling in pain.

Click-clack.

"Go on! Scream, damn you!"

It raised the right arm towards him. The same arm soon fell down as the fourth shot split open its stomach.

Click-clack.

"How's that for instant surgery?!"

The howls soon became whimpers of fear. Braylon ended its life by pointing the barrel into the mouth and firing the fifth shot.

It was dead.

He looked over to what used to be the elder and his granddaughter. There was nothing he could do to save them. He was too late to do anything. But he would be damned if he would allow that to happen to everyone else in the village. So he reached the black case, grabbed the rest of the shells and headed outside the house.

* * *

With the last Beowolf dead, the village became safe once again. The group of monsters was relatively small in size, a pack of eight individuals, including the two he killed before. Some had to be tracked down. Others came searching for him. The latter group was the most disturbing, as the Beowolves became very agitated the moment they saw him. He could swear he even saw some of them foaming, as if the urge to kill became uncontrollable.

(Grim Dawn – Lonely Moon)

However, the hunt came with a heavy price. Most of the villagers were heavily injured, if not killed. Several families were ruined because their loved ones were dead. Some buildings were destroyed, as the monsters tried to scratch their way into their insides.

This, in turn, redirected the hatred towards Braylon. The villagefolk thought of him as a Huntsman, something that he was not. Their reasoning came from witnessing their his fights with the Grimm and the gruesome ways he killed them. He tried to explain himself, but all he got was stones being thrown at him. There was nothing else to do but to run away. Leaving the village behind, Braylon had no other way but to follow the road. He only stopped running when he was sure the people wouldn't chase him.

The broken moon appeared once again hours later when he traveled to a lake. Its light reflected on the surface of the water, as did the stars. Despite the beauty he had in front of himself, the Vault Hunter decided to sit beneath a tree. He was truly tired of "screwing up" things, he thought, like he did back there. The only thing he needed was some alone time.

But even his alone time couldn't be enjoyed peacefully, as he would start having flashbacks about his past deeds, the horrors he witnessed, and most importantly, Hell. The image he received when he first set foot in that eternal prison would be forever engraved into his memories. It was a point when his mind decided it had truly seen enough. Just remembering the images, most of the times spontaneously, would make his whole body hurt. He was absolutely sure that sleep became a luxury he would never be able to afford anymore.

"_So... all of it... it's true._"

"_Correct. From now on, always remember that you know far more than any other mortal. As such, you became a priority._"

"_But what can I do if I can't even kill one of them?!_"

"_Better safe than sorry._"

"_I don't even know where to begin._"

"_Look. There are only two mortals in the whole creation who are truly able to kill my brothers. They are so effective in their work, that the Anathema himself gave them the power to do it. One of them stopped an invasion by himself and is now trapped into a sarcophagus. The other is still active and much more amusing. Never in my exsistence had I seen my brothers run away from a mortal with a ridiculous attire and hairless head. Even the enemy camp had a laugh._"

The Vault Hunter sighed as he leaned his head to the tree behind him. His PDA displayed the map of Remnant, with a red dot indicating Vale.

"_Looks like it's gonna be a long walk... great._"

(Minecraft – Cave 4)

Braylon jumped to his feet, grabbed the energy pistol and immediately aimed at the darkness hidden behind few trees and bushes, where he was sure the noise came from. His breathing stopped for a moment as cold sweat ran down his cheeks.

"_Grimm?_"

Despite being tired from the journey, Braylon was still able to fight if needed. Although, he had to be honest, he really wished that whatever was hiding was anything but another demon like the one he already fought.

Speaking of demons, a paranoid thought sneaked into his mind. What if the giant wasn't dead? What if its hatred was enough for it to hang itself to this plane of existence, seeking revenge on the mortal that injured it? What then? Would he be able to fight?

"_Was that... a growl?_"

* * *

**I think it is time I introduce you to a type of monsters I call Heroes. To put it simply, the Heroes are a subtype that can be shared with all creatures, regardless of factions. You can recognize a Hero thanks to its unique features not present in others of its kind (example, all knights have silver armor and iron swords, but a Hero will have a golden armor and two golden swords). Normally these creatures will be much tougher than their common counterparts, hence why they earn special names or titles.**

**And now for the first questions!**

**M4PTP: Oh man, I will try to answer as best as I can. So here we go.**

**a) He will probably be with team RWBY again. As for the antagonism, well, we will see. He will definitely be a party breaker, if that is what you mean. Though as for now, I cannot guarantee anything, as I am still in the first chapters.**

**b) I am not sure, but probably will. Remember that this is a crossover with both Doom and Borderlands, so you can kinda expect for the darkness to be turned a bit higher than in the original.**

**c) If there is one thing that I know about writing, is that there were (and still are) a lot of writers out there who dislike their creations, destroy them and start again. I think Camus, though I am not sure, asked his friend to burn all of his works after he died. Luckily, the friend did something completely opposite. I have to be honest, there is not much for me to dislike in the previous story, it's just that I felt like rewriting the thing again. I believe I can write a good fic, and if this means that I have to begin from scratch to improve myself, then so be it.**

**d) No, no. This is in no way professional. I am simply writing this for fun, so I don't feel like restricting myself to pointless things like professionalism. If I were to reap a profit from this, then it would be a whole another thing entirely. But since I am writing this just because I feel like I want to, and since writing is a form of art, though I don't consider myself an artist, then I experiment. Who knows, it may turn great, it may turn bad, but at least I know that I am able to do it. Hopefully someone will read this and get some kind of inspiration to do an actual work of art, worthy of the old masters.**

**Hope you are satisfied with the answers. If there is something else you would like to ask, though not something heavily spoiler-related, I will try to answer.**

* * *

**PDA Biopedia:**

***Entry #4: Crimsonclaw (Hero)**

**Type: Grimm – Beast**

**Faction: Creatures of Grimm**

**Description:** "_It is not uncommon for some individuals to be the best of what their species has to offer. Although I couldn't care less, it appears that this Beowolf was very old by the time you fought it. Even among pack leaders, this specimen displayed great strenght. My guess is this being one of my brother's work, even though I found nothing thst could prove it. Ah well, it is dead anyways._" 

* * *

**Arsenal:**

**Pistol: Energy pistol, Unforgiven (Borderlands)**

**Shotgun: Striker (Borderlands)**

**Shield: The Bee**


	5. Invasion

There was no mistake. The sounds he heard were the typical canine growls. What confused him was their tone. Normally a dog or a wolf, when growling, will increase or decrease its tone, but it will always remain indentifiable. Whoever, or whatever, was currently growling had either a sore throat or it was a bad actor. In any case, Braylon fired a bullet with the hope of scaring the potential threat.  
Everything went quiet before the growls became even louder.

Then, in an instant, something jumped out. Before falling, he was able to recognize the creature as a red fox. Any other detail had to wait, for he was struggling with said animal, who bit his right hand and tried to tear it apart. The fox flew off him with a swift kick to its stomach. It smacked against the ground before it leapt to its feet.

"What... what the fuck?"

He was able to see it clearly. What he thought of a fox turned out to be a horribly mutated version of the gracious animal commonly associated with one's cunning. Several patches of fur were replaced with large lumps of glowing orange flesh, strongly resembling tumors, spread all over the body. It had three tails and one extra jaw sticking out from the original. The eyes were glowing in a shade of orange that could easily be confused for red.*

It jumped ferociously at him with the same intent as before. Braylon impaled it through the body with his Holo Sabre, effectively stopping it mid-attack but not killing it. Actually, it looked like it didn't mind having a solid-light sword the approximate size of an average human arm or larger rupturing the vital organs, tearing the flesh and breaking bones, stuck inside itself. It still tried to bite him as its life depended on it. Not even several shots with his revolver seemed to incapacitate the monster he had in front of itself. It died only after getting shot in the head. Aside from occasional pieces of skull and brain matter raining everywhere, the wound also released an orangish cloud of gas which quickly scattered in the air above him.

"Gah!" He yelped while tossing the lifeless corpse aside. "That was a close one." He stood up and examined the mutated fox. "What the hell happened to this poor thing? These mutations aren't normal."

Braylon took the attack as a warning sign that he needed to move away from the area. He switched to the energy pistol before running down the road. Howls could be heard echoing through the forest from both his right and his left. One mutated wolf ambushed him during his marathon. It was halved in mid-air with a precise application of the Holo Sabre. The same orange gas flew out of this animal as well.

He could see the outlines of buildings in the distance. Several more animals were killed on his way towards what he considered to be a shelter. That thought slowly changed the more he approached it, for he noticed dim lights scattered around the town, each with different levels of brightness. It almost reminded him of...

Fire!

"No... no, no, no, no!"

Several buildings were beyond any hopes of salvation. Those untouched by fire were either destroyed or abandoned, and he was still in the outskirts. He stopped in front of a burning house. The blinding fire made him unable to completely see a figure walking towards him. It was not until he heard moaning that he noticed the figure's odd movement, similar to the shambling of someone with an injured leg. At the distance of two meters, the figure's moans turned into growls as the arms were extended forward. It was also the distance from which he saw what walked towards him and reacted accordingly, by jumping backwards and shooting with the pistol until it died. The horror and disgust he felt at seeing the rotten pile of flesh that lay in front of him made him wish to puke his intestines out. It behaved as if it were alive, despite being in an advanced state of decomposition. **

"_Since when corpses behave like the living?!_"

More undead appeared, effectively surrounding him on all sides and blocking every means of escape. Everywhere he looked he would see at least one walking corpse shambling towards him.

(Protricity – Light 'Em Up)

"_I'm surrounded!_" He clenched his teeth. "_Fuck it. If they want war-_"

A pair of hands grabbed his shoulders. He instinctively elbowed the undead, crushing its nose, then materialized Holo Ripper and spun around, slicing it diagonally.

"_At least they are weak..._"

The second closest threat received the Ripper into its stomach. After it bent in pain, Braylon pistol-whipped its head. The enhanced strength crushed the already damaged skull with ease.

At least there was little to no blood...

"_Engaging them in a battle is pointless._" He heard the voice while he shot a group of undead with the pistol. "_These possessed carcasses have a source. Find it._"

"_Possessed?! By whom?_"

"_By the likes of him._"

Braylon turned his head in the opposite direction only to see a burning skull with red eyes and long horns approaching towards him like a speeding rocket. ***

He quickly jumped to the ground, cursing loudly as he heard the unbearable shriek flying past him and somewhere down the road. Raising his eyes from the dirt, he spotted a corpse awkwardly crawling towards him. Two shots with the energy pistol stopped any further movement.

"_Fuck ammo, my life is at stake here!_"

The Vault Hunter decided to swap his Holo Ripper for Unforgiven, coming to the conclusion that he should make some distance between himself and the monsters. With the help of both firearms, he opened a temporary hole in a wall of zombies that blocked his path and swiftly squeezed through. Turning around the corner, he saw a large pile of unburied remains blocking the road. There was no way around it, but there was a window to his right, which he used to jump inside a house so that he could evade the horde.

Safety had to wait, however, as a mutated hound crashed through another window and wasted no time in attacking him. Even if the room was poorly lit by a light bulb dangling on a wire from the ceiling, he was able to see the attacker because of its eyes and glowing lumps of flesh. His guns illuminated the room with brief flashes, revealing scattered books and overturned furniture.

After the hound has been dealt with, he went towards the door which was located in the second, and last, room this house provided. An axe chopped through the wooden object just as he grabbed the handle, taking him by surprise. The door was destroyed after the third hit, revealing a man in overalls. All it took was a brief glance for the man to go berserk and start barking with that distorted voice of his.

"Aagh! Mortal!"

Now that he took a better look, Braylon could see that the man was possessed, just like the corpses outside. His orange eyes and the faint, orange mist that emanated from him was a dead giveaway that the person had been under the control of the forces of Hell.****

"_What are you waiting for? Kill him._" The voice scolded Braylon who ran back to the other room.

"_I can't kill someone who is probably unaware of his actions! He is possessed!_" He mentally yelled as he dodged the attack.

"_You have neither time or knowledge to fix the issue. So don't think twice. He definitely won't._"

Braylon was cornered. Despite having the means to solve his situation in his own hands, he was reluctant to use them. He grinded his teeth together in both rage and panic. The palms became drenched in sweat as the possessed man growled as he slowly approached the teenager.

"_Damn it! Damn it!_ Damn it!"

The possessed reacted at his cry of despair by raising his axe, ready to split the boy's skull in two with a merciless attack. Braylon had no choice but to fire repeatedly into the man's stomach, who let out a twisted, yet still recognizable as human, cry of pain. He only stopped firing when the man in overalls fell to his knees, the orange mist that Braylon assumed to be a demon quickly evaporated from its host and spread into the air above, dissapearing as if it never existed. The body fell to the ground with a loud thud.

"Shit..." Braylon muttered as he stared wide-eyed at the corpse. "This was creepy as fuck..."

One of the undead from outside fell from a window on the wood that made the floor. It slowly pulled itself up and moved forward. Its companions tried their best to replicate the same actions, with poor results. Braylon killed as many of them as he could before rushing out of the building through the door.

The road on the left was blocked by a pile of burning furniture. What remained was the road on the right, where Braylon could see the town square in the distance. The only obstacle he had to face was another possessed man, this time one with a pair of wolf ears and a tail. However, the sharp claws and fangs gave him the appearance of a monster, rather than a human.*****

"Hell awaits you!"

Several burning skulls flew around him as well. They attacked Braylon as soon as they spotted him. He was able to destroy one with a carefully placed shot. It shattered into tiny pieces as its high-pitched shriek echoed through the street. His revolver was empty, so he had to use the energy pistol to destroy the second one. The last one was dangerously close to him, so he had to crouch, thus missing his chance. It was then when the possessed man with wolf ears attacked, growling almost like a real wolf, only several times more disturbing.  
"Mrrgh! Your flesh is weak!"

He tackled Braylon to the ground, scratching everywhere he could. The Vault hunter suffered no damage due to his Shield, but it was clear that, should the man keep attacking, he would soon feel lots of pain. Braylon fired a shot into the man's chest. It failed to do as much damage as he expected, and it seemed that the flaming skull from before decided to attack once more.

"Sorry!" Braylon apologized as he materialized the Holo Sabre right into the man's skull only to dematerialize it seconds later. Blood and brain matter shot out of the fractured head like water from a broken hydrant. But Braylon had no time to show his disgust, as he was busy dealing with the second threat.

After destroying the third, and last, flaming skull, the young Vault Hunter ran towards the town square, hoping to find the source of this nightmare. Lots of human bodies were piled up in various places. Some were burning while some, he swore, were wriggling as if something that was hidden beneath them wanted to be free.

The town square was perhaps the most tragic site this ruined town had to offer. At the far left stood a wooden cart filled with both human and animal corpses. Almost every house was damaged beyond repair and the stench of sulphur mixed with dead meat was enough to turn upside-down even the strongest of stomachs.

What Braylon didn't expect was someone else standing there as well. Indeed, it was a very tall and emaciated humanoid with peach-colored skin and stigmatized hands. The frame of this abnormally thin being looked so frail and weak, that Braylon thought that it must have been either a trap or an optical illusion. It slowly cracked its head towards him, flashing a twisted evil grin and black beady eyes. ******

"_Agh... a mortal._" The creature never moved its jaw, it just kept humming and chanting incoherently.

Braylon frowned. "_Are you the one who destroyed this town?_"

"_Ehe... hehehehe..._" It straightened itself as it cackled. "_Perhaps... perhaps not..._"

"_No, he didn't._"

The monster tilted its head.

"_He is a serf. And a poor one at that. Nothing relevant enough to waste our time on._"

All humming stopped. Braylon felt like he should be very cautious.

"_How... how did you call me, brother?_"

"_A serf. Or better, a serf of serfs._"

Its fingers popped and cracked as they began twitching.

"_You... you will pay for this insult!_"

The monster suddenly raised its hands in the air, unleashing columns of fire at the Vault Hunter.

"Dear God!" Cried out Braylon as he was barely able to jump out of the way. "_That was really close!_"

He quickly got up, swapped his pistols for the Striker and went behind the cart. Meanwhile, the demon slightly raised its hands. Two orange columns of light, one for each hand, striked the earth below. Then, two burning skulls replaced the columns in a brief, but bright, flash accompanied with thunder.

"_Did he just fucking summon two of those things?!_" Braylon's eyes threatened to fall out of their sockets at the sight. "_He can spit fire and summon more demons?!_"

"_I told you he is a serf, didn't I?"_

"_How do I kill him?_" He peeked out of his cover and saw the two skulls going towards the corpses in the cart.

"_A powerful physical blow should be enough. He is aware of his weakness, so he will try to make some distance between you and him with cheap sorcery and even cheaper lackeys. Be ready to attack when the time is right._"

The early-mentioned skulls disappeared inside two corpses, giving them new lives. Lives that had been quickly removed with few swings of the Holo Sabre. He then had to jump away as the cart suddenly lit on fire.

"_You can't escape me, mortal!_"

"Who ever said anything about escape?" He taunted and fired a shot at the demon's chest. It groaned loudly before clutching the bloody wound.

"_A mortal can hurt me? No... you must be..._"

Distraction was all Braylon needed to "kill" it. He dashed towards the demon, pointed the gun at its spine and fired a shot from very close range. Dozens of pellets tore through the ill-looking skin and dug into said spine.

"Mgraaargh!"

Not satisfied, he pointed the steaming barrel at the left ankle and fired again. The leg was torn away with huge amounts of red blood as the demon fell to its side, uttering an anguished laugh. A final blast at the chest split its body in two, turning it into a bloody heap.

"_Good riddance, but it still isn't enough. As I said earlier, find the source and destroy it._"

"Where should I look for?"

Lots of walking corpses and mutated animals fastly approached the square from the road in front of him. He swapped the shotgun for a pistol and Holo Ripper combination.

"_You can follow a trail, can't you?_"

* * *

Fighting his way through hordes upon hordes of nightmare turned flesh, Braylon followed the trail of cadavers and twisted monstrosities. He eventually reached the outskirts of the town again. The night was still as bright as it had been hours ago, when he was near that lake. As for Braylon himself, restlessly killing everything that moved made him a bit tired. He promised to himself that, should he survive, he would find a nice place lay down and sleep until the afternoon of the second day.

The wave-like road passed through a tiny swamp and ended somewhere on a hill, not far from the town. Aside from hearing the typical sounds of the night, he also heard echoing screams, roars and other abominable things unpleasant to the human ear.

(Doom Metal Volume 4 – The Demons from Adrian's Pen)

Deciding to solve the situation as fast as he could, the young Vault Hunter sprinted across the road and towards the swamp. There was a large rock that stood on the left of the road at some point. A possessed human ambushed him as soon as he passed. Braylon dodged an incoming fist and jammed the Holo Ripper in his stomach through his right hip. The vibrations made by the holographic chainsaw shook the man as he roared in pain. Braylon pointed the barrel of the energy pistol at the man's jaw and fired. Both the head and the jaw fell off the body, melting into a disgusting pile of goo.

Down the road, when he already set foot in the swamp, he was attacked by another demon, identical to the tall one he found in the town square. We can safely say that they looked like twins.

It raised its hands rather than attacking directly. Said hands began glowing as four undead rose from the ground and surrounded the one who called them. While they were trying to attack Braylon with bites and scratches, the demon tried to set him on fire. Dispatching the former humans was easy, but when he killed them all, their "master" would just raise another group. So Braylon came to the conclusion that he had to eliminate the root of the problem.

When it summoned a group of undead for the third time, Braylon sliced them in two with his Holo Sabre and went straight for the demon. Stabbing the sabre into its chest, Braylon moved the sword upwards until the head and torso were cut open in two. The remains splashed to the ground with a meaty squish.

The path was now danger-free for most of the time. A small group of undead would sometimes appear, but they all went back to their eternal rest. Everything changed when he encountered the Grimm. More precisely, a new type of Grimm. A boar-like creature with four eyes, large tusks and bone-like plates all over the legs and back. It was a small group with only four specimens. *******

One of them squealed loudly, alerting others. Even if he stood approximately five meters away from them. The same Grimm that spotted him rushed recklessly at the Vault Hunter, squealing all the way. Even if the eyes were just yellowish spheres, he was able to see madness behind them, as if the creature lost all common sense when it spotted him. Same thing happened with the humanoid wolves the locals called Beowolves.

Braylon simply pointed the gun at the Grimm and pulled the trigger. Its head exploded into a refined pinkish mist as the body stumbled and fell in front of his legs.

"_Boars? Seriously?_"

"_Don't blame me. I didn't design those._"

"_What idiot did thi-_"

Being attacked while lowering your guard is the only logical thing that can happen. Even the Grimm knew that rule, as one of them tackled him from behind. The other two tried to stampede him to death. Braylon, since he suffered no direct damage, was able to roll away at the right time.

He was also angry.

"_You were saying?_"

His eyes locked with the Grimm responsible for the humiliation. He motioned with his hand for it to try again. The Grimm complied and sprinted forward like a bullet shot from a gun. Braylon was prepared, for instead of dodging the attack, he decided to take a stance.

"You chose the wrong human to fuck with! I am no normie!"

The two collided. Normally in a fight between a human and a boar, the latter would probably win. But Braylon was no normal human. He had far superior strenght that surpassed even those of the best bodybuilders, so it is no surprise that he grabbed the boar by the tusks and completely stopped the attack.

"I'm gonna turn you into a damn salami!"

He released the grip on one of the tusks and uppercutted the boar Grimm. It backflipped to the other side, allowing Braylon to grab it by the leg and lift it up. He then materialized his Holo Ripper and split its belly open, releasing its insides as if they fell from a piñata. Two remained.

Their next move completely caught him off-guard.

The two remaining Grimm simultaneously bent over and spun forward with incredible speed following the eight-shaped pattern. No matter the strategy, he would always be attacked by one of the two. Better receiving the blow of one than of both of them, he thought.

He decided to jump to the right, thus evading the spin attack of the right Grimm. It was as he predicted; the left one was successful where the right one failed. Braylon was sent flying into a tree, the Shield's battery depleted by two thirds.

"_So they are not completely brainless..._"

The young Vault Hunter stood up and smiled.

"_But now it's my turn._"

Swapping Striker for the pistol he fired at the successful Grimm. The energy bullets stunned his target, giving him the opportunity to reach it safely. When he came closer, he used the Holo Ripper to slice through the neck. Large amounts of blood sprayed out of the wound as the holographic utensil cut through meat and bones. The boar Grimm was sturdy enough to squeal in pain, but not enough to actually do something to defend itself. It was shaking as if someone hit it with a taser. The whole scene strongly resembled the butchering of a pig, only few times more violent and without mercy for the animal. In the end, Braylon chopped its head off, letting the dead body to fall to the side.

Only one remained. Braylon wasn't sure if it was rage or utter madness, but the beast decided to stop spinning, its only best defensive maneuver against him, and thought it would be a good idea to impale him with the tusks. Braylon swapped his current weapons with the Striker once more and jumped sideways as the Grimm went past him. He pointed the shotgun at its side while being mid-jump and fired. While the hole was small and neat, the internal organs blew out from the other side in a shower of gore. There was no need for the second shot.

Seeing that there was no other threat nearby, he decided to take a full sprint down the road and out of the swamp.

* * *

Out of every possible scenario Braylon had imagined, being in a cemetery was not one of them. The large iron gates were bent and rusty when he was at the entrance. The place itself was a disaster. Many graves were open, likely from the risen dead, the smell of sulphur poisoned the air and there was some strange red stuff scattered like a web all over the cemetery. Apart from the mentioned details, and the air being hotter than before, everything seemed normal. Everything, except a large black sphere in the distance.

Aware that there might be danger around every corner, Braylon took a careful step forward. When he moved his head to see if anything was out of place, and found out that it wasn't, he let a sigh of relief.

"_Welcome to my realm, little mortal._"

This voice was much different than the one that talked to him. It was deep, calm and smooth, yet hoarse, guttural and filled with millenia of sealed hatred. It sent chills down his spine.

"_I will be your living nightmare for this night._" It breathed out as if its throat was crushed. He was sure he even heard it coughing.

It was only now that he noticed the black sphere in the distance getting bigger and bigger. As if it were... moving towards him.

"_So tell me..._"

Braylon realized that the spherical shadow was de facto a living being. How did he found out? He saw the shadow split vertically, revealing a large, red-colored eyeball with a reptillian black pupil staring him as if it tried to kill him with its gaze.

Finally, the shadow revealed itself.

"_What are you afraid of?_"

* * *

**PDA Biopedia:**

***Entry #5:** Tainted

**Type:** Demonic Corruption – Beast

**Faction:** Legions of Hell

**Description:** "_Whenever we, or the enemy, enter into the mortal plane of existence, we tend to... confuse the natural balance. The enemy has no problem with this, as their presence bears more benevolent effects to their surroundings. We, however, are a whole another story. My brothers are so filled with negative emotions and other unpleasantries, that they unwillingly corrupt everything near them, turning even the most harmless of beings into doomsday monstrosities. Some are so powerful that their mere presence can seriously twist the reality itself. This is why most of them have special binding seals that solve the problem... most of the time._"

* * *

****Entry #6:** Possessed – Corpse

**Type:** Demonic Corruption

**Faction:** Legions of Hell

**Description:** "_In my years-long career of Vault Hunting, I've encountered many things. Xeno beasts, bloodthirsty bandits and large battalions. But real, legit zombies? Hell no. I mean, seeing them in the movies is one thing, real life is another. Damn, does anybody stay dead anymore? Good thing they are so weak that a gust of wind can make them dead again._"

* * *

*****Entry #7:** Lost Soul

**Type:** Demon

**Faction:** Legions of Hell

**Description:** "_Don't think even for a second that just because we share a common enemy that there is brotherly love between us. Truth to be told, anyone can't stand anyone else. The only glue that keeps the rest of those fools together is you-know-who. You really don't want to go against someone who is the most powerful being in the whole creation, right after Anathema himself. The rule down here is simple; might makes right, meaning that the stronger will despise the weaker. One of the weakest tribes down here are these fools. See, they are the type of brother that hates learning only to regret it later, complaining your ears off. They never learned how to form a proper body, so they decide to take someone else's, even if it's dead. Animal, human, plant... it doesn't matter. Thing is, they have the means to do it. And they are really good at their job._"

* * *

******Entry #8:** Possessed – Former Human

**Type:** Demonic Corruption – Human

**Faction:** Legions of Hell

**Description:** "_Before I talk about possession, you need to learn something. Humans, and mortals in general, are made of two things: the physical body, which is the puppet, and the aetherial soul, given by Anathema, which is the puppeteer. Possession is, simply put, forceful removal of the original puppeteer, who was replaced with a new one. The original is aware of the puppet's actions, but can't do anything on their own to stop it. Now, why do we need this when we can form bodies of our own? Simple, really. As it turns out, mortals are, at least the gifted ones, capable of sensing our presence through things like goosebumps, horrible feelings etc. Possession partially removes that problem, because mortals are more likely to describe it as a multiple personality disorder or something like that. It also covers our presence. But what you saw here is a rather radical method. Since my brothers gained freedom, nevermind that they will be punished for their actions, they simply decided to possess mortals with a technique that removes the mortal's soul completely from the body, making it unable to ever return to its favorite meat shell. I guess you can see where this is going..._"

* * *

*******Entry #9:** Possessed – Faunus

**Type:** Demonic Corruption – Faunus

**Faction:** Legions of Hell

**Description:** "_It appears that possession of these submortals causes severe side effects on their physical bodies, turning them into feral animals. Oh, you are wondering why I called them submortals? How else can I call something that has been created by mortals?_"

* * *

********Entry #10:** Arch-vile – Reanimator

**Type:** Demon

**Faction:** Legions of Hell

**Description:** "_I am not ashamed to admit that I outright hate them. Their fanatic obsession with resurrecting dead bodies is something beyond my abilities to comprehend. Not to mention their lack of physical strength replaced with weak offensive tactics. What? You didn't know that sorcery comes from us, down here?_"

* * *

*********Entry #11:** Boarbatusk

**Type:** Grimm – Beast

**Faction:** Creatures of Grimm

**Description:** "_First a bear, then a werewolf and now a boar. Am I seriously missing something? Like a theme? What's with the stupid fascination for animals? More importantly, how many variants of these monsters am I going to see in the future?_"


	6. Human Prey

"_So tell me, what are you afraid of?_"

And now we are briefly going to stop our story for the sake of asking you a question. What would be, in your opinion, a human's reaction to seeing a demon? Obviously one of the answers would be fear of the unknown. That is pretty much mandatory. But is it only fear? Seeing a demon with one's own eyes would truly be a life-changing experience and we are not talking about a change for the best. To see something that would defy or confirm your view of the universe would bring more problems than it would solve. Unless the individual tries to deny the reality of the situation, it would most likely end up tragically.

We know from Braylon's experience that seeing a demon, no matter how many times, will always feel like seeing it for the first time. A human mind struggles with what it cannot,will not, possibly fathom. Especially when said things are eye-openers.

I'm sure we all remember the early-mentioned spherical shadow that opened its eye. The moonlight revealed the thing that was hidden beneath, a silvery floating sphere crowned with a pair of black horns and four, approximately human-sized, arms and a bloody, teeth-lacking mouth so large that it looked like it's body was split in two. Why it had no teeth? Because they were torn out, hence the blood, replaced by an iron chain that probably served to stitch the mouth together, but failed miserably as it was slightly opened. What was strange was a faint light coming from the insides of the mouth. It was a shade of cyan that deceptively looked like a very light green.*

Braylon took a step back, unsure of how to react. The giant eye staring at him was rather unsettling. He could feel profound hatred behind that seemingly stoic stare. His instincts ran wild, the mind urging him to make a move.

"_Perhaps you are afraid of snakes and spiders,_" The deep voice echoed in his mind as the demon stood still. "_tiny pests that can poison you with a bite, gifting you with a slow death in the middle of nowhere?_"

His eyes briefly left the demon to check the surroundings. There was nothing else alive besides them.

"_Or perhaps you're afraid of big heights,_" Its voice, while deep, suddenly felt like that of a human. "_knowing that if you fall, your existence could end in an instant or, worse, every bone in your body could be broken beyond repair, leaving you to rot in a wheelchair for the rest of your short life?_"

While he didn't saw it, he could hear it taking a deep, raspy breath before bellowing from what he assumed to be its throat. "_Or, maybe, you fear infected wounds caused by pieces of steel that crawl all over your body, splitting apart your skin and letting your blood to fall free from your veins?_"

Braylon became more paranoid with each question, fidgeting in place from time to time. And while the demon continued to remain motionless, he could swear that it enjoyed his unpleasantness and fear. On a body where body language was practically nonexistent, the eyes were the ultimate betrayers.

"I'm not afraid!" He exclaimed. How much he sounded convincing was questionable to both parties.

"_Is that so?_" The black slit that was its pupil suddenly became larger. Braylon was confused for a second before he felt unbearable pain in his chest that made him fall on his knees and clutch his chest. "_I commanded your heart to stop beating for just a second. Do you understand now, little mortal, what are you going up against?_"

"If you wish a fight, then fight without dirty tricks!" He managed to speak through his teeth.

"_Fight? Oh-oh, you misunderstood. This is not a fight, this is a one-sided massacre._" His pain stopped abruptly. "_But far be it from me to simply end your life like that. It would be... boring. After all, you are the only mortal who successfuly escaped from my torture chambers. So come, mortal! Entertain me._"

"_How can I do anything against that thing?! It's too strong!_"

Braylon took the energy pistol and aimed at the expressionless demon. His fingers were unable to pull the trigger and his hands were shaking.

"_Am... am I scared?_" His eyes briefly went down on his hands. "_I'm... shaking... I'm terrified... absolutely terrified._" The demon, meanwhile, was as still as a statue. He screamed with all his might and forced himself to pull the trigger. Out of all shots that he fired, not one of them made it move even for an inch. He kept firing over and over until he calmed down and realized that it was completely pointless.

"_My turn._" The black pupil expanded again. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. That was, until Braylon noticed that something below him started glowing. When he looked down, he noticed a purple glowing circle with strange symbols written below his feet. He had no idea when, or how, it appeared, but he knew he had to move. Throwing himself out of the circle, he landed on the dirt as the circle began glowing brighter with each passing second. All of a sudden, a strange red mist shot out from the ground and upwards, never leaving the boundary that was the circle.

"_When did that appear?!_" His eyes shot back to the floating monster and widened as its mouth started expanding, even more so than he thought possible, flaring up in that strange bluish color. He was sure that he saw a silhouette deep inside that furnace of a mouth. It turns out he was right, for two flaming skulls shot out of the mouth and towards him. Before he moved away from their line of attack, he noticed how one skull was that of a human while the other not so much. Despite that, they both shared the same trait; their flames and eye-dots were of the same color as the demon's mouth. And while they reminded him of the ones he saw in the town, these ones weren't shrieking, but moaning and crying.**

Braylon ran around the cemetery, dodging several tombstones in his way. The fiery duo followed close behind. Realizing that further running would lead nowhere, he decided to jump down, turn in mid-air and shoot the chasers. They were weak enough to break apart with few shots.

A crimson flash to the corner of his eyes warned him to turn around. The demon's gigantic eye was glowing with the brightness that rivaled that of the moon above their heads. Such brightness made him shield his eyes from the fear of being blinded during a crucial moment. It was then when he was hit by a beam and sent across the cemetery and into a wall. The pain he felt was exactly the same as the one he felt when that goat-legged demon tried to kill him, only multiplied by several times. He fell down after the beam disappeared. A circular shadow quickly plunged his vision into darkness.

"_Do you wish to know why you, a mortal, may destroy the body but never kill me?_" Braylon didn't respond. He was barely able to breathe through the amount of pain he felt. Instead, his eyes only darted upwards, meeting the demonic eye. "_It is not your call. How could you be worthy of such a thing, a creature that lives on borrowed time, in a borrowed meat shell? Oh yes, we know everything about mortals, each and every individual. Their fears, their doubts, their worries, their weaknesses... all of them, simple products caused by a cunning hand. Our hand._"

His body stopped responding to his commands as it slowly flew above the ground only to be set back on his feet. He knew that this move was supposed to insult him. And it did. His hateful stare did nothing to scare the being in front of him.

"_Look at you, pathetic and weak, just like your predecessors. So easy to manipulate, so easy to break, so easy..._" The pupil expanded. "_...to torture._"

Braylon sprinted forward with with surprising speed, materializing his Holo Sabre and attacking. He crouch-landed behind the demon, changing his weapon back to the revolver and pistol combination. Something squishy could be heard falling on the dirt, which muffled the sound. Both opponents turned around at the same time, staring each other in utter silence. The demonic eye moved towards its right pair of arms. One of them was missing. In fact, it lay below it.

It kept staring at its wound without showing even the slightest hint of pain. Then, the eye quickly turned its focus back to Braylon.

"_Congratulations, mortal. Forcing you to leave this valley of tears has became much more interesting._"

Braylon growled. "_He didn't even feel that._"

(Bloodborne – The One Reborn)

The demon raised his remaining three arms into the air for a few seconds. During the same amount of time, some strange orange symbols appeared in its hands and vanished soon after.

Then something grabbed him by the leg.

He looked down and there was a rotting hand rising from the ground.

Kicking the hand away with his other leg, he retreated for few steps back before looking around himself. Dozens of Possessed Corpses started rising from tombs. Some Tainted jumped on the walls and stared down at him. Something also rose from the ground at the demon's right. It was a pale-skinned hunchback with its flesh so twisted that the only facial features visible were the human teeth between a pair of twisted lips. It had dozens of glowing lumps on its back and chest, just like the Tainted, but slightly more expressed. Everything from below the chest was so thin that he was able to see bones hidden under the skin. The right arm, apart from having orange blisters had three short but fat, purplish fingers that resembled claws. The left one was morphed into a bludgeon, with thin and sharp orange crystals sticking out from the surface, thus giving it more lethal power. Braylon's nose, despite being at a considerable distance, was able to strongly feel the smell of decay coming out of that abomination.***

It was a coordinated attack, Braylon thought. While the mooks would earn his attention, the demon that summoned them would be free to attack with anything it desired. For the strategy to work, it would need an endless stream of disposable grunts, where one fallen could easily be replaced by two. It had that and much more. With the endless supply of corpses for possession, the Tainted and the warped monstrosity, the plan could be executed without anything going wrong.

The first batch of undead proved to be no match for his Holo Ripper, which hacked through the Corpses with a single swing. But then he noticed another pair of blue-fire skulls quickly approaching. While one stayed and fought, only to be "killed", the other took a dive into the dirt. He would observe its further movements, but one Tainted dog was very close to bite him, so he had to concentrate on other matters. After he killed the Tainted, by grabbing it from behind and opening its throat with the chainsaw, he felt a hand grabbing his shoulder, followed by extreme pain. He set himself free and jumped away from the attacker; a skeleton inside a cyan, emaciated, ghost-like, human figure with two, barely-noticeable pinpricks of the same color deep inside the eye sockets. ****

"_Avoid contact with it if you wish to stay alive._" Braylon used the Holo Ripper to try and cut the new addition to the small army he had to face. While it failed to hit the figure, as it passed right through, it did more than enough against the skeleton, which broke into pieces. The human figure let out a ghastly moan before being consumed by a bluish light, leaving behind scattered bones and the fiery human skull. He destroyed it before it could repeat its trick once again.

"_Crouch._" Without questioning the voice's intentions, the Vault Hunter did as he heard. Not even a minute later, he heard wind blowing above his head, like when someone swings something massive. Turning his head slightly, he saw the deformed monster inches away from him, growling with killing intent. His Holo Ripper was swapped for Holo Sabre, which made quick work of its legs. The creature fell down with a loud thud before Braylon curb stomped its head, using a broken tombstone as a substitute.

"_There is no point in fighting them._" Braylon frowned as he looked at yet another horde of monsters coming towards him. The demonic eye became bright once more. Knowing what that meant, he rolled sideways, barely dodging the beam. He looked at the demon. "_He has built a good defence. If I try to approach him, the zombies will just form a wall hard enough to keep me busy. Even the energy pistol proved to be useless... damn it!_" He dodged another beam while also swapping his current arsenal for the Striker. The demon, as if it knew his intention, lifted its arms and formed an energy barrier around itself, leaving Braylon surprised.

"_It is of no use, mortal. You are too weak to pose any kind of a threat to the likes of me._"

As soon as it spoke, it was shielded by a group of Corpses and Tainted. Another warped monstrosity rose out from the ground. This one had the arm shaped into a cleaver.

"We'll see about that!" He boasted. "Right after I make a hole in your army!"

"_Then come. Come, towards your death._"

The closest Corpse's head was crushed with a buttstroke. He blasted away the other Corpse, revealing putrid innards. Third and fourth were sliced in half, one horizontally and one vertically. As soon as the fourth's body split apart, he saw a Tainted racoon jumping at him. He crouched and grabbed the animal by the tail as it flew above him, smashed it to the ground and crushed it with his leg. Next was a skeleton with a woman's ghostly frame. He materialized the Holo Ripper and cut off its hands before crushing its skull.

There was nothing that could have stop him now. With a mighty battle cry he charged forward at the spherical demon. The holographic chainsaw reached the surface of the barrier. It screeched loudly as sparks started flying everywhere around them. He stashed the Striker so that his free hand could hold the other. The one-sided struggle went on for some time, as his hand threatened to bounce off the protective energy shield. Then, when all hope seemed lost, his eyes caught a glimpse of a crack right where his Ripper had connected. His right hand pushed down his left as the Ripper kept dealing further damage.

It suddenly broke with a loud crash, like shattered glass. The demon calmly remained in its position as the fingers of his right hand dug into its eye socket, leaving the eye intact.

Everything stopped. All noise around them disappeared instantly. It was just the two of them. Two of them in a lonely world.

The eye was fixed on the mortal in front of it. Braylon replied in kind. But unlike the demon, he was unsure whether he had done a good thing, ending the fight, or a bad thing, where his situation went downhill more than he thought possible. He could feel the warm crimson blood coming in contact with his hand and dripping from it.

And yet... nothing.

It had done nothing to stop him.

But why?

"_This is not a victory, little mortal._" It boomed calmly. "_This is a loss, for whatever you do, you will ultimately accomplish nothing._" The black slit expanded. Even if he was unable to see it, he was sure that it was enjoying this moment, thus pouring salt on his wounds. "_Your actions are irrelevant. Nothing you do can stop us now._"

"Shut up!" Braylon screamed furiously while changing the Ripper to Sabre. With quick and unrefined moves he began stabbing all around the eye, letting blood fall freely from the demon, who cackled in amusement. Falling completely under the provocations, Braylon stopped stabbing and pulled the eye out with his right hand. It fell to the floor, popping like a water balloon and forming a pool of blood and ichor under his feet.

"_Soon... very soon..._"

He then reached one of the horns and kept cutting it until he was able to tear it off with his hands. With the newly acquired horn he stabbed the eye cavity, freeing even more blood than before. He did it again and again until the tip of the horn got stuck somwhere inside and he was unable to pull it out.

The demon crushed down like a sack, half deflated and covered in its own blood. Everything else that was brought back to life or was corrupted died with it. He coughed and walked backwards until he fell on his bottom. Braylon took a moment to take a deep breath. He lost his composure as soon as he regained it. Those cursed words rang in his mind.

"_This is not a victory... nothing you do can stop us... you will ultimately accomplish nothing..._"

"Damn it!" He cursed loudly as one of his fists smashed into the dirt. "All of this... is for nothing! Nothing!"

Not only did he feel rage, he also felt humiliation. Despite his victory, he couldn't help but feel as if the demon let him win, rather than achieving it on his own. A final spit on his soul before it fled back to Hell.

His tantrum stopped abruptly when he swore he heard a noise coming from the corpse. Like a hiss of a snake. He looked up, and noticed that the corpse began shaking and inflating.

His eyes widened as he quickly got up on his feet and began running as far away as he could. A loud explosion sent him on the ground. Although technically, the explosion played a minor role. What actually threw him off-balance was a wave of energy, spreading in all directions. Red chunks of meat began falling from the sky as well. He spun around and noticed a huge red stain where the demonic corpse should have been.

"_Is it finally over?_"

"_Not even close._"

"_Okay, are you trying to make me angry right now?!_"

"_That is only half-true. Tell me, do you know how he got here?_"

"_...Oh._"

"_You fool. He could have reached this pitiful reality in many ways. And you now destroyed your only chance of finding out how._"

"_...Crap._" He lowered his head. His foot stepped on something strange. "_What the..._"

He crouched and touched the thing. It was red and smelled of decay. A tendril of sorts. And a giant one at that. He followed the trail and noticed how it was connected to dozens of others, spreading all over the cemetery. Still, all of them seemed to follow a pattern, just like a plant; many leaves, one branch.

And that branch lead to a chapel on the very end of the cemetery.

* * *

**PDA Biopedia:**

***Entry #12:** Har'Ga'Nesh, Eternal Jailor of Souls

**Type:** Demon

**Faction:** Legions of Hell

**Description:** "_Easily one of the most disturbing individuals down here. Har'Ga'Nesh used to be one of the most graceful and magnificent of my brothers. After the fall, he used his charm to fool mortals into various... questionable acts, thus aiding us in creating monsters for our cause. It didn't last long, as Anathema punished him with a specific curse. From then on, whenever he appeared to a mortal, it would be in the form of a hideous abomination so disgusting, that even the most foolish of mortals would flee from him. When we were thrown down here, the curse transformed him into what you saw. He changed his name to Har'Ga'Nesh and decided to torture mortal souls in his chambers for all eternity. Some brothers even joined his cause..._"

* * *

****Entry #13:** Condemned

**Type:** Aetherial – Demon

**Faction:** Legions of Hell

**Description:** "_Do not be fooled. Mortals aren't born equal. Even down here we live in a hierarchy because none is equally powerful. What makes you think mortals are any different? Reinventing the wheel and rediscovering fire ad infinitum? In any case, the Condemned are mortal souls forever trapped down here, as a punishment for their actions. While most of their time is spent on blaming everyone and everything for the actions they did on their own, they can and will attack every living being on sight. A word of warning, mortals created by other mortals through synthetic means have no souls of their own. When they die, they stop existing. Serves you right for trying to act like Anathema._"

* * *

*****Entry #14:** Abomination

**Type:** Demonic Corruption

**Faction:** Legions of Hell

**Description:** "_Sometimes the Lost Souls have refined tastes, refusing to possess corpses. Sometimes there are so many bodies to choose from, but not enough brothers to take control of them. Sometimes... some brothers find the idea of molding flesh as if it were clay to be a form of art or entertainment (or both), eventually forming beings known as Ghouls. While they may vary in purpose and strength, they all have one thing in common; they definitely used to be mortals, before my brothers decided to unleash their creativity to make (disposable) slaves._"

* * *

******Entry #15:** Returner

**Type:** Demonic Corruption – Aetherial

**Faction:** Legions of Hell

**Description:** "_Some Condemned will feel the need for a physical body. Because Condemned are mortal souls, they lack the power necessary to possess the living, so they settle for dead bodies instead. The aetherial energy the Condemned have in abundance will project an apparition of their former bodies on the possessed corpses, similar to what you mortals call "hologram". You can dispose of them quickly by destroying the bodies they possessed. Doing so, you will scatter their energy, forcing them to return to their original state._"


	7. Despair From the Dark

As he feared, the strange red mass had a source somewhere inside the chapel. More precisely, it was a hole where, he guessed, the altar was supposed to be. Everything was demolished inside the small building, leaving nothing but useless rubble as the red stuff completely covered the walls, just like a vine of sorts. The only source of light was a small brass lamp in one of the corners.

The most nauseating was the smell that invaded his nostrils as soon as he set foot inside the chapel. He was accustomed to various unpleasantries, as his line of work demanded it from him. And yet, this smell made him regurgitate whatever he had in his stomach as soon as he felt it. The concoction of sulphur and decay was so potent that he thought he would die from it, if such death was even possible.

No, he had to go out. It was too much.

"Jesus Christ..." He wheezed. "Bah! What the hell's down there?!"

After vomiting once more, he sat down and looked at the chapel, thinking about the best course of action. It didn't took long for him to realize that there was no other option available. If he wanted to put an end to this obstacle, he had to go down there. Besides, there was a possibility that he would encounter more demons in whatever was the place below. God only knew what were they capable of. Judging by the things he saw up to now, there was no doubt that it could be a long-term problem.

Sighing to himself, he accepted his fate as he went once more into the chapel. While struggling to not fall unconscious, he reached the hole, grabbed the red substance as if it were a rope and slowly descended into the darkness below.

* * *

(Mesektet – Forgotten Tomb)

He didn't know how much it took for him to reach the bottom. He knew, however, that it was both an annoyance and a pain. The red matter proved to be rather slippery to the touch. He had to go through the procedure with precision and cautiousness, clutching edges with hands and feet whenever he could. A wrong step could easily turn into his last mistake.

The only source of light in the middle fo the darkness was his PDA. His life was made easier by using it as a torch to illuminate everything around him in a small radius. Now that the feat was over, it proved to be less useful than before.

At the moment, there was no clear way for him to recognize his surroundings. The heavy and cold air was an indication of him being in a cave. The smooth stone bricks below his feet quickly removed that hypothesis. Raising his left arm, he decided to take a few steps around the room. There was nothing that could give him a clue, except for the entrance blocked by a pile of rocks and a wooden door covered with that red stuff on the opposite side. He gripped the circular handle of the door and pulled. It creaked loudly as it scratched against the floor. It looked like it was there for a very long time.

Passing a stairway that lead downwards, he found himself in another, much larger room. This one, to his surprise, was brightened with wooden torches attached to the walls and human-sized golden candlesticks, each with a pile of golden skulls as a base.

That room had all the clues needed for him to figure out where he was. Each wall had dozens of stone slabs stacked on top of each other, leaving enough space for bones or, in some cases, urns. There was even a pit in the middle of the room filled with bones of all shapes and sizes closed with a rusty grid.

He was in a catacomb.

How, or why, would demons decide to use them was beyond him at this point. One guess was to use it as a factory for producing an army of undead. But most of the bones were left untouched, so that was unlikely. What creeped him out more than anything else was the lack of demonic presence. The room should have been packed with them, yet there was none to be found. He remembered that he was dealing with a threat that was far beyond him and his tactics. All of this could have been an elaborate trap for all he knew.

One of the many corpses in the room was "fresh". It lay in the corner to his left above a pool of blood. Careful to not alert any possible demon nearby, he silently approached the corpse and examined it further. It was an overweight and dark-skinned bald man in red body armor, holding a machine gun in his lap that Braylon recognized as a product of the Atlas corporation. Whoever was the man, he died by multiple stab wounds in his chest.

He was reluctant to grab the weapon at first, thinking how it could have been a trap. After waiting a couple more minutes, he decided to take it anyways, along with two magazines stashed in one of the pockets. The dead had no use of guns.

"_Wow... looks really good._" He thought while inspecting the weapon. For a tool that was old by several years, it looked as good as new. That is why people loved Atlas, despite it being no better than any other manufacturer that plagued the galaxy.

Reloading the new addition to his arsenal, he slowly walked towards an arch, the only thing that allowed him to reach the rectangle-shaped room. The sight made him stop dead in his tracks.

There were two beings observing something he wasn't able to see. One was tall with slightly tanned skin and an orange crystal formation sticking out of its back, shaking worse than a man with a seizure and tremors combined. The other was shorter and fatter, with a skin so pink that Braylon could easily mistake it for a pig.

Both of them turned around simultaneously and stared at him. He was able to see their true nature. The tall one was a humanoid, thin-legged hunchback with the torso so devoid of meat or fat, that the skin clung to the glowing red intestines like a blanket. Its feet were large and deformed, the fingers shaped to resemble the talons of a bird. It had a circular mouth filled with carnivorous teeth for a face and bundle of large red tentacles, each equipped with unique properties. One had eyes, one had spikes, etc.* The second one was, if his eyes didn't deceive him, a humanoid pig. A rotting humanoid pig with nothing but a golden sword held in one of its human-like arms.**

The fear known to Braylon came back, even if he was accustomed to it. Those two were demons, there was no point in denying it.

They looked at each other briefly. Then, as if some kind of silent agreement has been established, the tall one quickly shambled somewhere to his right, towards a hall. The undead pig stayed behind.

It squealed and groaned while Braylon readied himself for the inevitable fight.

"M... mortal... you... die!"

He was prepared this time. Nothing could take him by surprise. The demon was also predictable, as it ran forward and swung with its golden sword. He simply crouched and unloaded a four round burst at its abdomen and head. Since the Atlas gun had an explosive elemental converter, the bullets had the ability to explode on impact with the target, causing more damage than a "normal" bullet would. The demon fell way more easily than he thought it would.

But the pig demon wasn't his preoccupation. It was the tall one that ran away.

"_Why did it run away?_"

(Plutonia Revisited – Wicked Garden)

He ran down the hallway he was sure the demon had passed too. He was now in a smaller room which had a giant well filled with skeletons. There were also four Lost Souls floating freely above it while several Corpses came out from behind a jail cell-like door on the opposite side of his position. He gunned them all down and reloaded.

Braylon's next challenge was a hallway with three jail cells at each side. He didn't understand why would a catacomb have cells and he never had time to ponder about it anyways, as there were more urgent matters; an Abomination at the end of the hallway and a horde of Corpses coming out of the cells.

The Abomination had to be killed, but the Corpses stood in front of his gun while he fired, allowing the stronger monster to advance forward. He had to retreat to the previous room so that he could escape from the swing of the monster's axe-like arm.

"_Crap! Out of ammo!_" He jumped sideways, evading a strike that would otherwise be lethal. The monster's axe got stuck into the wall, allowing him to switch to the Striker shotgun. His first shot chopped of the axe from the body while the next blew up half of its skull. It died, falling into the well. As the path became free, he was able to follow the tall demon, killing any opposing force in his way, which mostly consisted of Corpses and Abominations.

A dead end, he thought as he ran down a hallway. It was the fourth in a row. Whoever build the catacomb, they must have had a serious passion about dungeons and labyrinths. When he reached the final room, which was the largest room in the whole place, he wondered where did the demon go. There was nowhere he could visibly hide. Ah, but there was a hole in the wall. It must have been its escape route.

The room's light came from four brass chandeliers, each in its respective corner. That, and several black candles in the center, placed around a sarcophagus made of stone, decorated with various motives unknown to him. When Braylon got closer, he saw that the each candle was at the tip of a red star surrounded in a circle of the same color.

When he was about to come even closer, five cyan-colored fireballs burst into existence above the sarcophagus, only to form into five Condemned. Four of them attacked him while the fifth went inside the sarcophagus. He rolled out of the way to dodge two of them, jumped sideways to dodge the third and the fourth got a hit as he stood up. The fire burned at the targeted spot, which was his right shoulder, making him cry in pain.

"Fuck..." he swore as he materialized the energy pistol and destroyed the four nuisances.

A loud crash made him turn around. The receptacle's lid was broken as a figure jumped out from its prison. It was a Returner. Unlike the others he sent back to Hell, this one was shaped to resemble a plump man in a tunic and trousers, sporting a pair of shafted shoes and a pouch strapped to a belt. The man carried a round shield on his left arm and a Dane axe, a Viking's weapon of choice.***

Braylon and the Viking carefully circled around each other. Since Braylon thought that a ranged weapon would give him an advantage, he fired three shots with the pistol, all of which had been blocked by the shield.

"Okay... that's definitely new."

The Viking roared as he released a burst of aetherial energy from its body, sending Braylon flying across the room.

"That... is also new... ouch..."

Viking's surprise attack hurt, but not like the other times. Since the attack wasn't concentrated on one spot, it had a weaker knockback effect, allowing Braylon to be mostly unharmed. He jumped back on his legs and found out that the Returner had disappeared from his sight. Suddenly, a cyan-colored cloud formed in front of him. The Viking immediately jumped out from it and attacked the surprised Vault Hunter, its ghostly axe passing through his body.

He felt as if something inside him was torn apart. Nothing in his body had been harmed in any way, as strange as it may seem. Nevertheless, the indescribable pain he felt had softened his legs, making him fall on his knees. Eyes wide and breathing slowed to a crawl, Braylon clutched his chest, trying to remove the pain.

"_It's insane... hurts so much..._" Gritting his teeth, he looked upwards to stare into the hateful eyes of his attacker who was about to deal a finishing blow. The young Vault Hunter kicked one of the Viking's legs, temporarily loosing his balance. Braylon materialized the Holo Sabre and swung upwards but was met with the ghostly shield. He fired at the Returner's tibia, cracking the bone and making it kneel down. Now that they were on the same height, Braylon dropped the gun and raised his right hand towards the Viking's skull, seemingly uncaring of the effects that it would have on him. It was with the help of his astounding strength and endurance that Braylon took the skull and slammed it down on the stone bricks, breaking it instantly. The Returner disappeared in a cyanish blinding light, leaving behind the desecrated corpse.

He thought for a moment that the Condemned would come out, now in its original form. Instead, it was a blue sphere with the agonized face, just like the one he found in Hell. Smiling slightly, he punched the sphere and let its gaseous form to envelop his body. He was feeling as good as new.

"And now for the other one..."

Continuing his hunt for the tall demon, Braylon decided to go through the hole in the wall. It lead to a hastily dug tunnel which, when he jumped down, connected to a natural cave. There, behind a pig demon, stood the one he was looking for. He swapped the pistol for the Striker.

"Die!" The humanoid pig charged forward. Braylon's shotgun brutally tore off its left arm, making it fall to its knees and drop its sword. While the demon desperately held the wound-turned-blood-fountain, another rushed from behind him, to his right. Braylon raised the shotgun and fired again. It spun around and fell as the shot hit its right shoulder. A third one appeared to his left before he could use the shotgun, so he sliced off its legs and then its head after it fell. Turning back to the first demon, he decided to end its suffering by unloading the barrel into the head and making it go kablooey.

Only the tall one remained. He was ready for the attack that never came as the demon turned around and ran into a tunnel. Cursing himself for allowing its escape, Braylon quickly followed behind. He had no ammo left for the shotgun so he needed to change the Striker to his revolver and pistol.

At one point of the whole chase, the creature jumped and disappeared below a small cliff. Braylon stopped right on the edge of the cliff, having no intention of falling down and injuring himself. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the ambiental brightness for him to notice that he was in a very large cave, quite possibly twice the size of a hangar. His jaw dropped at the sight of the cave's contents. It was a common cave by all means, that was for certain, but he was sure that mountains of corpses and walls covered with that strange red substance weren't a natural occurrence. Especially when said substance acted like roots to a giant, fleshy construct shaped to resemble a monstrous mouth.

"_I see._"

"_What are you talking about?_"

"_That "mouth" is a Gore Nest.****_"

"_And what does it do?_"

"_Haven't you figured it out?_" Just as it spoke, Braylon did notice a strange phenomenon. A glowing red circle flew above the mouth by several inches. He wasn't able to see it clearly, though he was sure that something flew out of it.

"_A rift?_"

"_Hm, I guess that is one way to look at it. But I doubt you will have time to ponder about its significance._"

It was right, for the cave's denizens were becoming aware of his presence, courtesy of the demon that escaped from his grasp. And what residents...

"_Oh... my..._"

Countless demons stood below him, staring upwards at the mortal that dared to trespass on the private propriety. Humanoid pigs, Abominations, Possessed, Tainted, Reanimators and even several specimens similar to the tall one with the mouth for a face. One such specimen was larger than the others and had light brown crystals on its back, rather than the red ones, which were also larger.*****

"_There is no way I can banish so many demons at once..._" His gaze returned to the Gore Nest, as the voice called it. "_...But who says I have to?_"

The maddening cacophony of screams below became louder and louder as time went on. Braylon prepared himself for the demonic assault.

(Quake 2 – Stealth Frag)

Four Possessed Corpses managed to climb upwards towards him. After he shot all of them down, he jumped and landed on a fifth, smashing its head to the ground with his legs. Those remaining that surrounded him got dispatched with few precise strikes of his Holo Sabre.

One tall demon, whom he thought it was the same who escaped him, used its tentacles as flails. As much as he was able to dodge several attacks, there would always be a tentacle or two that would damage his Shield. There was no effective way to dodge them all. He waited for the right moment, that is when the demon whipped its tentacles again, jumped towards the nearest pile of bodies to gain the higher ground advantage, then jumped and struck down the demon with his Holo Sabre. The wound that went from its neck down to the pelvic region opened up, releasing the glowing intestines and blood. The creature fell backwards, choking, growling and moaning at the same time. Braylon was able to decipher a sentence among all that noise, directed at him albeit barely audible.

"This is just the beginning..."

Seeing that there was no time for thinking in the middle of a grotesque labyrinth filled with monsters ready to tear his face off, Braylon picked a random path, hoping to reach the Gore Nest.

Two Former Humans stood in his way. One young woman with a sickle and an old man with a wooden club. Both of them growled like dogs before lunging at the Vault Hunter. The woman slashed with her sickle vertically. Braylon jumped to the left and pointed the Unforgiven's barrel below her ear. He fired and then fired a shot with the pistol into the old man's knee. When he knelt, Braylon pointed both guns at the man's head and pulled the trigger.

It was then when he heard the neighing of a horse, only severely distorted and high pitched. A dark brown skeletal creature that reminded Braylon of a horse, only it had a pair of horns and the spine ended in a long tail. Green mist came out of its hooves, mouth and eye sockets. ******

Braylon decided to run down another way, temporarily escaping from the creature's sight. A zombie-pig demon jumped out from a pile at the unsuspecting Vault Hunter, throwing him on the ground. He couldn't fire because he had to hold the golden sword that was inches away from his throat. After lifting the sword, if only slightly, he materialized Holo Sabre and cut off the demon's hands, thus staining his clothes in even more blood. He kicked the squealing monster away, picked the guns and resumed his running.

And there was the skeletal beast. Right down the road.

It cocked its head back, then quickly opened its mouth and spat a jet of green smoke at him. Unable to run the opposite way, as he was sure that the demons were reaching him, Braylon had to jump towards the peak of a corpse mountain. Reaching it, he was able to see the current situation.

He was completely surrounded.

There wasn't a place safe enough to land without being attacked en masse. He heard a deep, guttural growl to his right. He turned around and saw a flying demon that was physically similar to the one in the cemetery, only this one had one pair of arms, leathery brown hide, actual teeth and the black pupil was round rather then a slit. *******

"_Ugh, another one._"

"_Indeed. And I suggest you banish him quickly._"

"_Why is-_"

The demon suddenly opened its mouth and a Lost Soul rocketed out. Thankfully he had quick reflexes, so he shot it to death. But just as he did, the demon was ready to summon a replacement.

"Oh no, you won't!"

Braylon took two steps back, then jumped at the demon, materializing Holo Ripper in mid-air and shoving it into the giant eye. As said eye burst open, he kept thrashing the holographic chainsaw until he was sure he made enough damage, then jumped on top of it and on another pile while the demon exploded behind him.

"Whoa!"

The rotten meat below him started trembling like a leaf. There was something buried below, he thought. All of a sudden, he found himself catapulted in the air as a loud, monstrous roar threatened to pierce his eardrums. His head was upside down while he flew, but he was able to see it anyways.

It was tall, not sure how much, amalgamation of several animal bodies that he was sure they weren't supposed to be like they were. There was the body of a cow molten together with the body of a pig, acting like the abdomen, and the head of a bull with flaming red eyes. The pig's legs were replaced with something that resembled like the legs of a mantis, only extremely sharp and blade-like. Tiny orange crystal formations were present all over it's body, scattered seemingly at random. ********

"Ho-lee fu-oof!"

His back crashed on something hard before he went tumbling downhill like a ball. There were no injuries, but he was seriously troubled by the sight of that beast. He doubted his pistols could do any harm to it. Bigger guns would certainly help. Too bad he was low on ammo.

"_I need to destroy that fucking Gore Nest before something else jumps out!_"

A demon shambled out of the corner of his eyesight. It was the one with the brown crystals.

"Great."

The demon raised one of its legs and slammed it down, creating an earthquake wave directed at Braylon. He was to slow to dodge it, so he lost the balance and fell down. His brief staring into the ceiling was interrupted by a Tainted deer that brought its head dangerously close to his face. He deadpanned.

"Stop it."

He nonchalantly pointed the revolver at its nose and fired.

"Whew... okay, round two."

Braylon jumped back to his feet. The tall demon grabbed him and slammed his body into a pile of corpses, then tossed him on the other side.

"Alright! Now you pissed me off!"

It shot its tentacles towards him like a bunch of spears ready to impale their target. He ran towards them, slid under, activated the Holo Ripper and chopped them off. It retracted its tentacles back and raised its foot. Braylon roared as he increased his speed , reaching and grabbing the responsible leg before it could cause another earthquake. He cut it off and then stabbed both the Holo Ripper and his hand into its chest.

"Fuck! You!"

He ripped its heart out and crushed it. The brown crystals on its back suddenly exploded, engulfing the falling demon in fire of the same color.

He had a hunch that he was getting closer to his goal. It was true. Raising his eyes, he saw the cursed Gore Nest, spitting out more Former Humans and pig demons. He decided to run uphill, killing anyone who dared to oppose him. He was a few meters away from it when he felt something pulling him back by the shoulder. He turned around and, to his brief scare, found the skeletal creature from before. It released its grip and headbutted him. He fell down. It raised its front hoofs up in the air. Hadn't he rolled away, he would have been squished under that weight.

The Unforgiven's bullet went between its eyes but it still didn't do anything to stop its advance. He frowned as he quickly jumped to all fours and sprinted towards the Gore Nest.

"_See that yellow pouch? Pop it open and pull out it's contents._"

Even if he couldn't see it, Braylon felt the skeletal monster's rage as it quickly approached him, obviously not liking the idea of a mortal being that close to something important. He reached the yellow pouch, as instructed, squeezed his right hand into a fist and tore it apart with a quick, yet strong, punch. His hand caught something squishy as it pulled out. It was surprisingly hard to pull off, but he did it, just as the reanimated skeleton was at arm's reach.

The very instant he ripped out the squishy object, which, to his disgust and horror, looked like a mutated heart, the Gore Nest let out an almost human-like roar of pain before exploding. The unleashed energy blast sent him flying downhill and annihilated the horse-like skeleton as the devastation spread all over the cave, causing even an earthquake that threatened to bury everything in it.

Coughing, Braylon turned his head to the place where the Gore Nest had been. While it was true that the "body" had exploded, the red ring that flew above didn't. Quite the contrary, it expanded, replacing the light inside of it with inky blackness and massive bursts of dark red mist and lightning. The pile of bodies beneath it was slowly shrinking as the corpses were pulled into the black sphere of nothingness.

"_It's unstable!_" Braylon stared wide-eyed as the demons were unable to resist its call, flying like ragdoll and sucked in by a vacuum cleaner. Even the amalgamation, which tried to find the intruder on its own, flew over his head and dived straight into the portal, mooing all the way.

"_Congratulations, mortal._" The voice taunted. "_You forcefully opened a hole in reality itself._"

"_Don't fuck with me! How was I supposed to know it would do that? Why didn't you tell me?_"

"_And to ruin the fun? Besides, are you so blind that you are unable to recognize something unstable?_"

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuu-!"

The young Vault Hunter raged against the entity that was supposedly helping him as he was quickly brought towards the unstoppable rift.

* * *

**Arsenal:**

**Pistols:** Unforgiven (first game), Energy pistol

**Shotgun:** Striker (first game)

**Assault rifle:** Ajax's Spear (explosive, reflex sight)

**Shield:** The Bee

* * *

**PDA Biopedia:**

***Entry #16:**Flesh Artist

**Type:** Demon – Demonic Corruption

**Faction:** Legions of Hell

**Description: **"_Remember how I talked about some brothers of mine who are obsessed with making weird constructs out of dead meat? Well, allow me to introduce you to the Flesh Artists. A little bit of background; before we decided to go into a war that was lost from the start, these individuals were the living embodiments of art in its purest form. They knew how to sing, how to paint, how to build pretty things yadda yadda yadda... then that cursed day happened and some of these went into a mood swing, complaining how this war was, and I quote, "killing the inspiration". While some returned to normal, as if nothing ever happened (you can thank them for giving mortal races all forms of art they know and love, by the way) some started to see "patterns" in the war itself. Their art quickly turned grotesque and depraved, picturing slaughter and such. When they were cast down here, they... lost their sanity. So, as a form used to express their hatred for Anathema, they started making "art" from things they could find, which was usually fire and rocks. The more they created, the more insane they became. One day, one of the group proclaimed himself as a leader among them and gave them a new perspective: the flesh! Indeed, nowadays the flesh became their canvas... all they need to do is paint._"

* * *

****Entry #17:** Zombie Pigman

**Type:** Hellspawn

**Faction:** Legions of Hell

**Description:** "_What came first, the chicken or the egg? Well, swap the chicken and the egg for Pigman and Zombie Pigman and you kinda get the same result really. Mostly used for target practice or loyal slave-guards or whatever. I can't bring myself to care and neither should you. Oh, and if you happen to find a digested golden nugget, please return it its owner, which would be me, thank you._"

* * *

*****Entry #18:** Brynjar, Chosen of Odin

**Type:** Returner - Hero

**Faction:** Legions of Hell

**Description:** "_Brynjar was born in a small peaceful village Anathema-knows-where. At the tender age of sixteen (or was it less?) he decided to play vikings vs everyone else, a pretty popular game at that time. When he got older, he discovered a hobby that he would love for the rest of his days on that pitiful planet: war. Indeed, Brynjar was a "devil" on the battlefield, killing everyone who had the guts to challenge him. His people dubbed him "the chosen of Odin". Who is that, I have no idea. Probably a brother of mine with a passion for beards. Anyways, Brynjar died in the most stupid way possible. He thought it that him, along with two thousands of his men, would beat an army that not only surpassed ten thousands, but was also better equipped. Hey, mathematics is hard._"

* * *

******Entry #19:** Gore Nest

**Type:** Demonic Corruption

**Faction:** Legions of Hell

**Description:** "_Being a very cheap way of transportation, the Gore Nests are a favorite choice among the wannabe leaders, as its only ingredients are a cart full of fresh corpses and our sorcery. These beings (yes, they are alive) have the astounding ability to open portals that connect this place with a selected reality, or realm if you wish. Of course, if you have even half of a brain in that skull you can easily point out its huge flaws. For starters,the Gore Nest must be stable and active if you want a functional portal. If you wish to bring out stronger entities, or even massive numbers, then the Nest must be bigger so that it could create a bigger portal. That in itself is a problem as even the common Nest requires a stable supply of fresh corpses, something that is hard to come by if you wish to be stealthy. Another problem is the fact that the Gore Nests are only capable of making a connection with this place and one selected reality. Anything above that will require more sophisticated methods of transportation._"

* * *

*******Entry #20:** Marmythael – Moulder of Flesh

**Type:** Demon – Demonic Corruption - Hero

**Faction:** Legions of Hell

**Description: **"_Sigh... I sometimes fail to understand my brothers. You see, the Flesh Artists never show up in a body of their own. Their strategy revolves around forming a body out of a dead mortal, add some twists, and then possess it. This is nothing like the Corpses possessed by Lost Souls. Flesh Artists are way smarter. Before they possess the body, they make sure to infuse it with a mixture of various energies and sorceries in the form of a crystal, which then will grow naturally on the body. This not only gives them more power and better control, but it also allows them to use those same crystals to invent new abominations every day. And while most Flesh Artists use the basic, cheap recipe, the more advanced ones (or the sane-er) take it a step further and try to experiment. They crystals you saw on the back of Marmythael were designed to give him the control of the earth around him. Naturally, since I suspect he never wrote the recipe down, he made them very unstable, which would explain why you weren't swarmed with earth-controlling monstrosities._"

* * *

********Entry #21:** Virus, Prophet of the Plague

**Type:** Demonic Corruption – Hero

**Faction:** Legions of Hell

**Description:** "_Despite its appearance, Virus is a Tainted. I am sure that by now you realized that the Tainted are a byproduct randomly created when we act in the physical realms. A Tainted is never created intentionally... except for this one. Virus being a synthetic product created by Flesh Artists is my best guess. Hm, and here I was thinking they lost their touch._"

* * *

*********Entry #22:** Pain Elemental

**Type:** Demon

**Faction:** Legions of Hell

**Description:** "_There is a rank among us that is named "Elemental". An elemental is a living embodiment of the element they, supposedly, represent. The Pain Elementals are one such type. Not only they desire inflicting pain on everything that isn't them, but they are drawn to it. It gives them power. Should one drop in the middle of a battlefield, they would become truly powerful, the best among their ranks. The Pain tribe is known for two things; one, their sorcery allows them to summon Lost Souls whenever needed. Two, if you ever happen to stumble upon one, make them a top priority, as they, like all Elementals, have the ability to influence nearby mortals with their elements. The more you stand near a Pain Elemental, the stronger the pain you will feel. Naturally, killing their bodies is almost as bad as letting them live._"

* * *

**********Entry #23:** Amalgamation

**Type: **Demonic Corruption

**Faction:** Legions of Hell

**Description: **"_My mind can't even right now. Just... can someone tell me how that thing is even alive? And why it can move around when obviously shouldn't? It looked tough too. Note to self, if I ever find another one of these things, I better have something better than a couple of pea shooters._"


	8. Stranger in a Strange(er) Land

Blackness.

The only thing he was able to see was... nothing. Nothing, but a veil of darkness that made his vision completely useless. But this was no black hole in the vastness that is space, this was merely a hole in space and time.

He was able to hear the commotion around him caused by the other guests and objects as well as his screams of either fury or fear, or both. The chaos that was unleashed around him wasn't harmless, as sometimes he would feel something hitting against him only to remove itself and fly off somewhere else. It was painless, but irritating.

Such unbearable torture went on for quite some time until Braylon felt like something was pulling him closer to something else, like an ocean current dragging a swimmer down to its death. That might sound strange to us, as we learned that Braylon was floating like an astronaut in space. However, we need to remind ourselves, again, that this was nothing like space, and that we aren't in his position. But he could feel it, because when he tried to resist, in the form of swimming or other, he was unable to do so.

And in an instant, everything turned blue. The black veil that blinded him vanished into thin air. We are mentioning air, because Braylon was actually able to feel a warm breeze gently caressing his skin. Confused, he tried to move his eyes, spotting nothing but clouds all around him, so close and yet so distant. A brief glance to his body made him notice a large black hole, like the one back in the cave, quickly shrinking in size above him. He wondered as to why was that happening.

Then his mind finally activated and warned him that he was falling.

And he couldn't to do anything to stop it.

He prepared himself for the eventual pain that he would strike his body should the impact be strong enough. To his surprise, his back fell on something soft enough to minimize the potential danger, but hard enough to hold his body from further falling. A sigh of relief escaped from his lips at the discovery of said object being a potted bush.

Apart from several leaves and tiny sticks sticking to his clothes as he moved away from the bush, there was nothing else to be anxious about. Maybe except for the fact that, as Braylon will soon realize, he was no longer in the previous reality, but a new one, and a strange one at that. 

"Uh..."

(Super Mario Galaxy 2 – Puzzle Plank Galaxy)

Everywhere he looked, there would be objects made of wood. Wood, wood and again, wood. The whole scenery was rather strange for Braylon, as he wasn't used to such... exotic places. For beginners, there was no firm ground, just wooden platfroms floating in the blue nothingness that was both above and below him, an endless sky, if you will. Each platform-island had some unique sceneries. One was hiding behind clouds, a windmill being the only visible detail. Another one had a giant tree in the middle of a forest, other had a playground of sorts and the one closest to him had a fountain, which was connected with the one he was currently on thanks to a bridge. If we had to describe it in one sentence, it would definitely be a lumberjack's fantasyland.

He heard a muffled thump behind him. He turned around and saw a rotting corpse of a pig, laying in the same bushes as he did. One more corpse fell on the ground near him. Their origin was clear to him. They were raining down from that hole between realities.

Deciding it was better to move on instead of waiting for the probability of something squishing him, Braylon crossed the bridge and went to the other island. Right on the edge, after the fountain, stood a wooden slide that would probably take him to another place. Just to be sure, he reached the edge and looked down. Other than confirming his thoughts, he also noticed several black shapes moving, running and bumping into each other.

Braylon shrugged as he took a ride down the wooden construct, which was, if he had to admit it, way too fast for his liking. And that came out of a person who used to drive vehicles across the desert at high speeds.

The third island-platform was nothing much. It only had a statue (wooden of course!) depicting some being in a heroic pose. What acquired his attention were the two shapes, which turned out to be denizens not from this reality. How did he knew that? Well, one was a Boarbatusk, which he was absolutely sure that it shouldn't be present there while the other was an insect-like creature with eight legs, brownish slender body and four black beady eyes. * They were both locked in a power struggle, a feat made possible due to their size being almost equal. Braylon took the energy pistol and killed them both. The insect released a cloud of corrosive gas that melted the wood below.

"_How did that Grimm reach this place?_"

"_How did you escape back then?_"

"_You mean, it crossed a rift?_"

"_Is it too absurd for you to believe?_"

"_I guess not... but, wait. A rift? You mean a rift appeared somewhere in that reality?_"

"_Hmph. If only..._"

"_Explain... hello? Damn it! Can you at least give me some ammo?_"

A black case appeared in front of him. It was filled with several packs of shotgun shells and three magazines for his assault rifle. He reloaded his guns, stashed the remaining ammo and brought out his Ajax's Spear.

He looked around. Where should he go next? There was nothing this time that would transport him elsewhere. He moved to the edge of the platform, searching for anything his feet could stand on. All of a sudden, a wooden block shot out of nowhere and placed itself firmly in front of him. He jumped slightly in surprise, thinking it might have hurt him, but after he placed one feet on the block, another block came out and attached itself to the first one.

"_It's a bridge!_"

Frowning slightly, he stepped on the second block. Soon the seemingly random placements turned out to be a makeshift road that led him to a large platform-island that acted as a picturesque meadow with a yellow road leading to a farm in the distance.

But Braylon wasn't there to sightsee. He was no tourist. The objective was to find a way out of this wooden reality as soon as possible. There was no need to spend any minute longer than necessary, unless he wanted to turn insane.

Not even seconds after his feet touched the ground, he was swarmed with a small group of alien insects, like the one that fought with the Boarbatusk. Most never came close to him, as few shots of the assault rifle turned their bodies into chunks. One, however, reached his leg and bit down. It didn't hurt because of the Shield, but as he kicked the insect away he was surprised to notice that there was a small stain of acid further reducing the Shield's battery, just where the insect had bitten him. Therefore, it was safe to assume that the creatures were capable of releasing acid just like a snake releases its venom to a bitten animal. And judging by the damage caused from the pools released from the dead ones, it was a really powerful acid.

Killing the last insect of the group, Braylon followed the road towards the farm, careful of potential dangers lurking in the grass. He had to kill two more insects before he reached the small wooden fence that divided the propriety from the outside world. Curiously, there was no owner who would come out from any of the buildings to warn the trespasser. He walked some more and, hearing strange noises, went at the barn. There was a swarm of those xeno insects biting and scratching at some wooden bodies, presumably the owners.

Among the ones he already grew accustomed to, there was another type that, although physically different, seemed to be part of the swarm. They had lots of tiny black legs, almost like a millipede, that carried a greenish worm-like body. It had a scorpion-like tail and black beady eyes placed around a mouth that had tiny tentacles instead of teeth. ** One of them spat a greenish blob at Braylon the second they spotted him. Because of the bullet's slow speed, he was able to dodge it. The blob touched the wall of the barn and exploded, releasing a large stain that melted the wood with ease.

No matter how strong their carpace was, if they had any, Ajax's Spear proved to be more than enough for dealing with all of them, as the explosive bullets would enter their bodies and explode from inside. It was rather messy, but better that than coming up close, for Braylon feared that the acid could pose a serious threat to him.

After killing about dozen or so insects, the ones that he was able to see, a new swarm rose out from both the ground and the dark corners of the barn. Knowing that he underestimated them, Braylon quickly ran out of the barn while shooting at any insect that came close enough to him. He then turned around and ran for the house, hoping to be protected from the creatures that thought of him as food.

As he ran towards the house, he caught a glimpse of something purple to his right, just at the edge of his vision. He turned his head for a second. His eyes didn't betray him, it was something. It had two legs, a tail and a head that seemed like it grew out of the body, complete with a large mouth and a pair of glowing yellow eyes. He thought he was looking at some dinosaur.***

Whatever the creature was, it began running at his direction with rather surprising speed. Braylon thought it wanted him, but when it got close enough, he noticed that the animal was attacking the insects, tackling one of them and killing the other with a bite. He reached the door and, before entering, glanced at the swarm. It was occupied with the animal, who seemed to have no problems being bitten by the attackers. Rather, it took out many individuals before finally succumbing to its wounds.

Closing the door behind himself, the Vault Hunter piled several other things at the door to prevent it from opening. He then mentally facepalmed when one of those purple animals jumped through the window and inside. Doubting that the rifle could do anything, he switched to Striker and fired a shot right into the creature's head. While the pellets pierced the skin, thus covering its face in blood and making it look more demented than it already was, it performed rather poorly when it came to killing it. Actually, it only became more angry as it charged at Braylon, destroying everything that stood in its way. Braylon jumped to the left as the animal dived head first into the pile that blocked the door. He ran upstairs, distancing himself from the animal. The stairs were too small for its large legs, so his safety was guaranteed.

He chuckled as the creature roared in frustration. The next moment, both of them could hear thousands of legs tapping on the floor. Braylon ran towards the nearest room and closed the door.

"_I'm trapped. I'm fucking trapped!_" He sighed. "_Okay... okay. Calm down, Braylon. There has to be some way..._"

He decided to take a look through the window. His eyes spotted several insects coming towards the house. But other than that, there was nothing else noteworthy. That is, until he saw something falling from the sky and smashing against the ground, outside the farm. The impact was so loud and powerful that it shook the whole platform. Every sound died at that very moment. Not even the insect's skittering. It seemed like everything was focused on the thing that crashed on the platform-island. But what could it be?

Braylon looked once more and, cursing, saw the thing slowly rising up. It was nothing else than the demonic Amalgamation from the cave, now way too close for him to feel safe. It even snapped its head towards the house and roared loudly, charging towards the farm as fast as its legs could carry it. He also saw the insects, minus the animal, skitter out of the house and towards the incoming source of the noise. What motivated him from running out of the room and jumping through a window on the opposite wall was the Amalgamtion itself, as it stomped on the fence and went straight into the barn, only to come out of it seconds later, shattering the wooden building into hundreds of flying pieces.

He wasn't willing to learn how it did that. That is why he kept running as soon as he was able to get up. Despite knowing that there was no way out of that mess, he was still willing to put his bet in the attempt. Before he jumped over the fence, the house behind him was completely demolished, as if a wrecking ball had passed through.

"_Crap! Crap! Crap!_"

Stopping abruptly as he reached the edge of the platform, Braylon glanced down into the depths. There was a faint light not far below. He knew that he had no choice and would probably end up dead anyway, so he jumped into the nothingness below, reaching the white glow with increasing speeds.

* * *

Braylon's screaming stopped abruptly once he came out of the rift and crash-landed into an armor stand. He cringed slightly as the armor detached itself from the stand and fell on his back. Muttering and grumbling, the young Vault Hunter hastily stood back up and dusted himself, then decided to take a moment to get a hold of his current situation.

"Alrighty." He whispered, looking at the armor that fell on the ground, then to the slowly vanishing rift. "Looks like I'm in some kind of armory."

The armory had a torch as a source of light, barely able to illuminate every inch of the armory. Still, Braylon could see the room's contents as well as interact with them. Weapons, mostly swords and axes, were aligned on the walls like some trophies. The shields of various shapes and sizes would sit below said weapons, each depicting some heraldic symbols unknown to him. He allowed himself to open several wooden chests and lockers, revealing a small arsenal of flintlock-based weapons, ranging from muskets to pistols. Finding no use for those, he went out of the armory through a wooden door.

The hallway was rather confusing for him to understand. It had a red carpet that barely covered the whole floor, stretching as far as he was able to see, which were the corners not far from him. There were also several crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, each having more than twenty lit candles, some portraits of people his PDA had no data on and large windows on the opposite wall, supposedly for enjoying the view. What kind of view could be enjoyed was questionable to him, as he was able to see nothing but darkness. When he got closer, he noticed that there was a moon in the sky. This time, it wasn't shattered, but blood red.

"_There is another rift in this place. Try reaching the highest point._"

Materializing his energy pistol, Braylon walked at a steady pace, careful to not get ambushed by anyone or anything. He arrived to a wooden door and was about to open it when he heard moans coming from inside the room.

"Okay..." He winced slightly as he quietly moved away, leaving whoever was in there to their privacy. Everything went as smooth as silk until he encountered... a rather peculiar thing.

The horns, wings and tail were a clear sign that it was a demon. However, what he didn't expect was its physical appearance; that of a, we dare to say, quite gifted woman, with emerald green eyes and long black hair. The provocative outfit would only worsen the situation if it weren't for the fact that Braylon had his hormones under control, courtesy of the PDA. ****

"_Oh... my..._"

They spotted each other simultaneously. And while his was a quite rational reaction, the monster's reaction... wasn't. It smiled, posing in such a way to display all of her "talents". Minutes later it paused, puzzled by the human's unresponsiveness and deadpanned expression.

"_Is... is she trying to woo me?_"

"_Calling that thing a "she" is an insult to everyone ever. The charm doesn't work on you, so kill it and go on._"

Its personality took a drastic turn. From the irresistible temptress, it turned into a beast ready to snarl at Braylon's every move. Quickly realizing its mistake, it once again turned docile, ready to seduce him.

"Sorry, I'm immune." He said nonchalantly as he fired two shots at the surprised Succubus, killing it instantly.

"_Be careful now, as that specimen alerted everyone of your presence._"

Braylon frowned as he reached the upper floor by taking the stairs to the left. This hallway was smaller than the one before, but it had two doors and a corner that led somewhere to the right. Shrugging, he opened the first door, the one on the left. It was empty. He turned around and opened the one on the right. All of a sudden a hand grabbed him and pulled him inside, throwing him on the floor.

"_Really now? You were caught with your guard down?_"

Braylon could hear the voice facepalming. He tried to get up but something pushed him back down. He could see a tail wagging at the peripheral vision.

"So..." He heard a woman speak up. "It seems that the traitor's lapdog finally decided to pay us a visit." It was, quite possibly, the most sensual voice he ever heard from the opposite sex. But he knew it was an illusion, all of it. That is why he growled loudly enough for it to hear.

There were two of them, he thought after he heard them giggling. One placed two fingers under his chin, lifting his head up.

"Aw, killing you is such a shame, though. I would gladly hear you scream in bed." It winked, earning a snarl from Braylon.

"_Mortal, I am giving you ten seconds to kill these two and get out of that room._"

Hearing the threat, Braylon lifted a fist and punched the talking one in the face. He then kicked the second one away with his legs and stood up. Picking the gun, he killed the one that held him down and kicked it with his leg, sending it flying through the door and into the hallway. When he got out, he fired three five more shots at the remaining one before going forward.

It took some time for him to find the next stairway, but when he found them, he was able to reach the balcony of what he discovered the building to be a royal castle. With a healthy dose of parkour, the young Vault Hunter went on the very roof of the building. Even in the darkness that enveloped the place, he was able to spot a figure not far away from him.

"Stay away from me!" It warned. "Just... stay away!"

"Calm down! I am not a monster!"

That seemed to calm the figure as it lowered whatever weapon it had. Braylon took a few steps closer and found out that the figure in question was a king, judging by the golden crown. Although unable to precisely determine his physical features, he was more than capable to notice the weapon he held in his right hand. It was a double-barreled shotgun with its barrels painted in white and yellow stripes.

"T-they came out of the blue!" The king blurted out. "My lands were peaceful! Peaceful! Then... they suddenly came... those... monsters, down there! They took my wife and daughter and... turned them into one of them! I lost everything!"

Braylon sighed. _"I don't have time for this."_ He raised his pistol and shot the king to death. Before the corpse fell from the roof, he reached it and took the shotgun from its grasp.

_"...Well, that was surprisingly convenient."_

_"Please shut up."_

Ignoring the already weak conscience, Braylon went for the tallest tower out of the three existing ones. Rather than climbing his way to the top, he materialized Ajax's Spear and fired at the tower, making a small hole for him to use.

_"I seriously hope this place has another rift."_

Much to his joy, there was one. It was glowing with the same brightness as the one that appeared in Hell. Of course, he had no idea where it would lead. Maybe it would take him to a dangerous place, or maybe to a strange land just like the last one. There was only one way to know.

Muttering a silent prayer to God, he closed his eyes as he sprinted towards the rift.

"Geronimo!"

* * *

**So it turns out that there is a name to the color I was looking for. It is not a shade of cyan, like I thought it was, but a shade of green called, de facto, ethereal green. In any case, if I write in the future chapters cyan instead of green, then know that I meant the ethereal green. Here they will mean the same thing, unless I specify otherwise.**

* * *

**Arsenal:**

**\- Newest addition:** Orphan Maker (without curse, as this one doesn't belong to Captain Blade)

**Pistol:** Unforgiven, Energy pistol

**Shield:** The Bee

**Shotgun:** Striker, Orphan Maker

**Assault Rifle:** Ajax's Spear

* * *

**PDA Biopedia:**

***Entry #24:** Sturg - Swarmer

**Type:** Riftspawn - Insect

**Faction:** None

**Description:** "_There is no way that these guys were the natives to that place. They looked so... standoffish. Not to mention their size, agressiveness towards other species and signs of intelligence. No insect should be that big. Either the hellhole they came out is a prehistorical cradle... or something very nasty happened. And I bet my soul that it is probably the latter._" (Resistance to Corrosive damage)

* * *

****Entry #25:** Sturg – Mireborn

**Type:** Riftspawn - Insect

**Faction:** None

**Description:** "_On Pandora, the most known animal is Skag. Now, Skags are very unique in fact that their biology gave them the ability to create several subspecies. Some spit globs of venom at their prey, others are faster, things like that. I suspect that this creatures are very similar to Skags, seeing that this individuals were perfectly fine being in group with the others. Though, I fail to understand how can such deviation even begin to exist without forming a new race of animals. Such things are not normal and we are talking about Mother Nature here._" (Resistance to Corrosive damage)

* * *

*****Entry #26:** Barlowian Saur-Beast

**Type:** Riftspawn - Beast

**Faction:** None

**Description:** "_What amazes me about this creature is its illogical behavior. I saw those teeth, it was clearly meant to be a herbivore, yet it seems like it would gladly devour another animal. Just... why? There is clearly no reason behind it. Argh! Fuck all of this! What, what else are you gonna throw me, universe?!_"

* * *

******Entry #27:** Succubus

**Type:** Hellspawn

**Faction:** Legions of Hell

**Description:** "_Talking about going out with a bang. It is safe to say that the birth of the Succubi wasn't our most magnificent moment, I will admit. Forget it now. Puny mortal, I have the (dis)pleasure to present; the first organic robots! How do you make one? Easy. You take one human female with more hormones than brains, corrupt her mind and turn it into mush, give her some power and make her learn sorcery... and there you have it. A completely self-aware biological robot programmed to suck out the fluid, as well as aetherial energy, that gives birth to new mortals. For what purposes? I have no idea. Go ask the science-passionate brothers... or the Flesh Artists._"


	9. When Life Gives You Lemons

In one of the dark alleyways of a big city, everything can and does happen. You may encounter bandits willing to slit your throat for money, men and women willing to sell their bodies, homeless and jobless individuals, ruined childhood memories... the natural. But in one of these alleyways, populated by nothing more than large dumpsters, a rift floating in the air threw something out and straight into one of those dumpsters. One of its inhabitants, a cat, hissed and jumped out of dumpster, running into the darkness.

"I hate my life."

Braylon sighed as he jumped out of the trash pile. Although the smell didn't cling to his clothes, they still looked like they had passed through a battlefield. Torn and filled with blood stains.

"Well, it could have been worse, I suppose."

Something crashed into the dumpster behind him as the light of the rift slowly faded away. He turned around to check what else had the rift dropped into that reality. It was something metallic and shaped like a box. At least, that was what his eyes could see. He picked it up to examine it further.

"Oh great. Just what I needed." He groaned as he threw the object on the ground. "A damn Claptrap unit. But how did it get here?"

"_Must be the unstable rift that spat you out._"

"_I didn't see any Claptraps in that place._"

"_You didn't need to. It appears that the same rift was connected to more than two realities._"

"_It's already that unstable?_"

"_Why don't you ask other realities?_"

He frowned. "_I am not surprised. I mean, I knew it would happen... but not so soon. How am I gonna stop this threat completely if the situation is already that bad?_"

The voice laughed. "_You don't really think you will be able to stop it, do you?_"

"_But I must! I have nothing against other realities! They don't deserve something like this._"

"_And say, what can a mortal, whose nature has fallen, ever do against an army of beings far above him? Do you even realize in what situation you are currently in, realize how much of a farce your whole existence is? Your whole lives revolve around being eternal slaves to systems, careers, nagging significant others, yourselves. What, this "conservation of mass", these principles and laws and theories? Those are just layers upon layers of shackles meant to stop mortals from destroying everything they touch. The only thing you can hold yourselves on, outside Anathema´s words, are your own brains, which ironically are limited themselves. Taking "your" bodies from you, deceiving your senses, moulding your brains, corrupting your thoughts... we turned it into a form of art. And we are enjoying every last bit of it. Even as you waste precious time, my brothers are marching upon other worlds, turning them into lifeless wastelands or consuming them completely, all because you opened that Vault. Do you really want to go against that?_"

"..."

"_I thought so. This is why you must do everything I say. How you do it is no concern of mine, just that you do it. Be a good dog, listen to your master, and you may get a biscuit._"

Braylon growled in protest before sighing in defeat. After giving himself some time to think what he should do next, Braylon decided he would activate the Claptrap unit. If it was still possible.

Claptraps are tiny robots created by the founder of Hyperion corporation's artificial intelligence branch called Lawrence de Quidt. Also known as steward bots, these machines had the purpose to act as assistants in many jobs that would otherwise require a human hand. Unfortunately, Claptrap units have flawed personality chips, which in turn drastically reduces their usefulness. Being demoted to door openers, Claptraps became the best entertainment for citizens of Pandora. They were shot, subjugated and humiliated until one of them stood above all and started a robotic revolution (or robolution) that threatened to turn everything into copies of Claptraps. Some years later, the corporation mother decided to shut them all down, effectively removing Claptraps from existence.

But the one that he found seemed far from old or worn out like the rest of its brethren in scrapyards. The white stripe and the cyan paint job on the frame were almost intact, with few tiny scratches in places no person bothered to look. Even the optical device was as good as new. No dents, no wild cables sticking out, some rusted gears. It was very well preserved.

The first thing Braylon did was knocking on the Claptrap' frame. As there was no response, he turned it around and opened the grid located on its back. He repaired whatever damage he found, tossed some random junk he found in other dumpsters, closed the grid and waited. Its first response, after being alive for so long, was to tremble as if it had a robotic version of a seizure. Braylon groaned and decided to fix the problem with a well-placed kick. It jumped on its wheel, shook some more and pointed its sensor at the human.

"Thank you for purchasing your very own CL4P-TP made by Hyperion corporation. Any attempt to socialize and interact with CL4P-TP other than the ones listed in the instruction manual may result in unpredictable response from the CL4P-TP. Hyperion corporation is not liable for any damage, destruction or loss of private propriety, or for any physical, or mental, damage dealt to the owner, including, but not limited to, nervous breakdown, uncontrollable anger and death, as a result of the unit's functions. By activating this CL4P-TP unit, you accept the terms and conditions described in this announcement given by the Hyperion corporation, and agree to hold Hyperion corporation, as well as its associates, blameless from any loss or liability caused by the CL4P-TP. Hyperion corporation reserves all rights, including intellectual propriety rights, patents, trademarks and other intellectual propriety used to create the CL4P-TP."

Braylon groaned and facepalmed. All that corporative talk gave him a headache. In a fit of rage, he accidentally kicked the robot in front of him.

"Ow! ****! Who the **** did that?!"

He blinked twice as he lowered his leg. The optical sensor's lights turned from green to red.

"I swear! Every. ****ing. Time. I try to be nice to a ****ing fleshbag but no! They need to act like a dumbass and..." It trailed off, staring at Braylon. "Who the **** are you?"

"The guy who woke you up from your slumber."

"So... what? You want me to kiss your ass? To bow down to my almighty lord and savior?" Claptrap scratched his robotic butt. "Because it's sure as hell I ain't gonna do that."

"_Why did I ever decide to revive this piece of junk?_ Suit yourself, I got stuff to do. See ya."

"Hey! Wait!" Claptrap rolled behind Braylon, who turned around and walked away. "You're leaving me here? In the middle of nowhere?"

"Hm... _That reminds me, where exactly am I?_"

The Vault Hunter's head peeked out from the shadows. It appeared to be a city of some kind, with buildings that came out from the 1800s. Nevermind the architecture, Braylon was more focused on observing some of the cleanest streets he ever saw in his life. Settlements on Pandora could only wish for something like that.

Right, Pandora. He mentally berated himself for remembering that planet. It brought too much pain and suffering on everyone, not just him. Still, it used to be his home, the only one he ever knew. As much as it was a backwater and lawless place, there were also times of peace. Peace that would always be trampled by the next wave of bandits and corporations. An endless cycle of bloodshed, where peace was to the population what half-time is to team sports.

He heard the Claptrap's humming and looked down. "What are you doing here?"

"Gee, I dunno. What could I possibly do in bum**** place other than to follow the only fleshbag who fixed me?"

"I thought you didn't like my company."

"Zip it, wonderboy."

Shaking his head, Braylon stepped out of the alleyway, with the Claptrap unit following close by. After a brief argument, both of them settled for a random street to follow. Ignoring the looks of every citizen present, some of which were ranging from "voiceless horror" to "weirdos these days", they stopped in front of a boutique as Claptrap tapped Braylon on his hand.

"What?"

"Man, you look like ****."

"Oh..." Braylon moved his eyes down. "Yeah... so?"

"W-wha... what do you mean, "so"?! I can't go around with someone who looks like they've been on snuff movie! I mean, not that I give a ****, but I thought we were incognito or something."

Braylon facepalmed. He was doing a lot of that lately.

"Alright, wait here, I'll-"

"Do I look like Lassie to you?" Claptrap pushed Braylon away and went for the door of the boutique. "Move, pleb. I'm going in, whether you like it or not."

Braylon raised his head to the sky. "_Do you see this, God? What did I ever do wrong to deserve such a fate?_"

"_Let's see..._" The voice started. "_Blew up a planet, killed enough people to rival the population of the galaxy's smallest countries, destroyed a whole solar system by turning its star into a massive black hole just to kill a cosmic beast that you woke up, orbital striked a megalopolis, freed a virus into the atmosphere rather than containing it, effectively mutating every single being on the planet..._"

"_Okay, okay. Got the message, no thanks to you._" Braylon slouched and frowned. "_And most of those were done on accident._"

* * *

The first thing our Vault Hunter heard when he entered was a tiny bell placed above the door, immediately followed with the generic music typical for such places. To his right was the cashier, a woman with short orange hair, green eyes and a smile that could warm the coldest of hearts. If you must ask, no. It had no effect on him.

She was clearly surprised by his appearance but decided to hide it behind a smiling porcelain mask. "Welcome to the Golden Carriage, the finest boutiques in all of Vale! What can I do for you, sir?"

Braylon raised an eyebrow. "_Vale? So, we're back in-_"

Claptrap jumped on top of the counter.

"Why, hello there you beautiful thing of nature. Say, if I were a tank, would you like to check my cannon?"

Braylon cringed. Seeing the cashier's face was definitely something that he wouldn't forget soon.

"Right. I'll go to check out some clothes for me or... whatever."

"Yeah, you do that."

Sighing, he ventured into the wild jungle made with so many vibrant colors that his eyes hurt. He wasn't the type of person who was crazy about such things. For him, clothes were simply something that had to be effective as well as comfortable, not some decorations. When asked why he had such a view, one of his replies would be "I am not a Christmas tree".

Five minutes later, Braylon found something that met his standards; blue camo pants with pockets for storing stuff, black shoes, two more belts with holsters and small pockets, a simple white shirt and a light brown longcoat-duster. Freedom of movement, easy-to-access to ammo and smaller guns, protection from rain and dust. It was perfect.

He heard Claptrap rolling away from the counter when the door was slammed open. The cashier yelped as a man threatened her. Wishing to know what all that yelling was about, Braylon decided to drop his clothes to the nearest mirror and walked towards the counter. He found there three men in black business suits and red glasses. Two of them had some red swords while the third, the one occupied with the cashier, had a gun. All three of them spotted him quickly, mostly because Braylon didn't even bother to sneak up on them.

"Hey, who is that?"

"I dunno."

"Look at his clothes. What the heck happened to him?"

"Hey, morons!" The guy with the gun shouted. "Don't stand there! Get him!"

"Sure, I'll do it." One man with the blade came to Braylon.

One look was all Braylon needed to realize who he was dealing with. Bandits. Either them or a bunch of wannabe Tony Montana, he thought. Just seeing bandits made his blood boil. Back at Pandora, one of the main causes of death, beside "eaten by Skag", was "shot by bandit". Even today, Pandora has brutal conditions that allows such scourge to spread with the efficiency of a wildfire. No matter how many anti-bandit groups rise or how much the Vault Hunters work, there would always be a group of survivors that would rise from the ashes of the previous tribes and gangs, forming another that would take its place, only for the process to start all over again. Needless to say, many families suffered because of that and Braylon's was no exception. So instead of panicking like everyone else would, he decided to take a different approach.

"Hey, kid." The man walked dramatically. "Be good and raise your hands where I can see them."

Braylon, calmly, picked his ear with a pinky finger. "Sure, sure."

Such nonchalant response made him angrier, backhanding Braylon to the floor. Fueled by the giggling of his companions, he turned around.

"Wow, man. I am speechless."

"Yes! You are so full of swag!"

"Shut up you two!"

Braylon got up and raised his hands, the smug grin never leaving his face.

"You two, down there!" He raised his voice enough for them to hear. "Yes, you two. You should really walk out of that door, otherwise this guy might not be able to get a nickel for his mother."

"Why you-"

Before the bandit could swing with his weapon, Braylon materialized the Holo Sabre and brought it down on the man's midsection in the form of a horizontal swipe. Everyone went quiet, unable to decipher what just happened. The bandit looked down, then back at Braylon, laughing. Seconds later, blood erupted from the volcano that was the wound, painting him completely in red. Loud pops and squishing noises could be heard as the upper body slowly fell backwards like a tree that was about to drop to the ground. With a loud thud, the bandit's corpse split in two as blood and viscera were spilled all over the place.

"Tsk. Looks like he is only half the man he claimed to be."

The cashier screamed and fainted immediately. Moments later, a six-round burst killed the one with the gun, catching the last bandit's attention towards something on Braylon's right.

"Wha-" Was all the man could say before he exploded into pieces. Claptrap came out from behind some clothing racks, a gun digistructing in his robotic hands.

"Ha! Take that fleshbags who say that Tediore weapons suck!"

Braylon stared, dumbfounded. "You had a gun?"

"Of course!" Chirped Claptrap as he opened his "mouth" and stashed the weapon somewhere in his body. "You thought I was going around unarmed?"

"No... I just... forget it." He waved with one hand.

"Woah! You cut that guy in half?! Awesome!"

"But now I am completely covered in blood."

"Bah, who cares?! Find some rags in here and clean yourself. This ****hole sure has plenty."

Braylon grabbed a few shirts and rubbed the blood off his body, then took the new clothes.

"Weren't you the one trying to woo the cashier?"

"Who? Moi? ***** please, even a dildo is too precious to waste on someone like her."

"Then what was the point?"

"I would keep the bitch occupied while you steal the **** and rush out like a mother****er."

"...you think I'm a bandit, don't you?"

"Oh nooooo, that's no-"

"Done. Now let's get outta here. I'm kinda hungry."

"Saw a fatman selling meat in a shop down the road. Wanna take a shot?"

"Sure, why not."

* * *

"When I get my hands on you I swear...!"

Claptrap waited for a moment before lowering the newspaper he used to cover himself.

"...he didn't notice us."

Braylon peeked out from the alleyway. "You sure?"

"Yes." The robot rolled his way towards Braylon, who sat behind a dumpster and dug his teeth into a piece of ham. "He was way too fast for someone his size." The only sounds that came out of the Vault Hunter were slurps, gnashing of teeth and gulping chunks of meat. "You ****ing pig."

"Mm-you... mmm... whould.... be hungry..."

"Don't bother. I might get sick." Claptrap sighed as he took out a red oil can. "Lucky me, I'm a robot. And no. This is no lube. Stop looking at me funny." The duo enjoyed a brief moment of relaxation before venturing out into the city.

"So..." Claptrap started. "Where exactly are we?"

"Planet called Remnant."

"Huh... weird. My database has no information about it."

"Er... that's because... it's a backwater cesspool of the galaxy."

"I can see that." Claptrap moved left and right. "Still better than Pandora."

"If you say so."

"What we do next? Rob a bank?"

"No... no... I have no idea, actually."

"So let me get this straight. We are here, stuck, on a "hostile" planet..."

Braylon mentally shut out and distanced himself from the robot's tirade. He was trying to contact the voice, the entity that carved that symbol on his hand, to know about the next course of action. The entity, however, was faster.

"_Change of plans._"

The Vault Hunter stopped walking. Ignoring the robot who bumped into him, Braylon replied to the sudden change.

"_Change of plans?_"

"_Yes. You are unable to stop the invasion completely. But you can prevent further damage._"

"_How?_"

"_By salting the earth._"

"_I don't follow._"

"_Not all realities are equally interesting to my brothers. Some contain things that are more appealing to them, because it can help them spreading more chaos. This reality is one of those points of interest, mainly because it holds something that, if used, could destroy planets. As much as I would enjoy seeing whole empires crumble, with countless mortals dropping dead, it would go against my end goals. Truly, Anathema gave certain gifts to those realities where mortals are more than capable, and willing, to repel any of our attempts to annihilate them. Where the purehearts are born._"

"_And?_"

"_I doubt that you will ever be able to use them. Not that you have to. If I can't use them, then no one will._"

"_In other words, you want this whatever, to be destroyed._"

"_Correct._"

"_And what is this thing that needs to be removed?_"

"_This reality contains a truly unique set of powers. While mortals, unable to comprehend them properly, started making up stories about certain individuals and gods and whatnot, the true story is well hidden from everyone._"

"Hey, you even listening to me, fleshbag?"

"Wait."

"_Long ago, there was a mortal who knew of Anathema and followed his will. It was thanks to him that humanity managed to survive in this reality. In order to express his gratitude, Anathema gave the mortal a blessing. That blessing allowed the mortal to succeed in everything he did, from curing the sick to farming the lands. Several generations later, everything went downhill, as one of the mortal's successors was personally tasked to find the core threat of the Grimm and cleanse the reality from our parasitic influence. This mortal, a coward at heart, rather than go and do it alone, despite Anathema constantly telling him that he would prevail, used others of his kind to do the dirty work for him. Every team he sent failed the task and was killed._"

"What do we need to wait for?"

"Shut up."

"_Not only that, but this mortal started dabbling into sorcery, something that belongs in our field, eventually using magic instead of Anathema's gift. As a punishment, Anathema removed the blessing and made the mortal unable to reach the afterlife until he completed the task given to him, so that he would be able to see the consequences of his actions. Soon all the knowledge on Anathema was lost to this world and humans fell into the pitiful state in which they are now, something similar to your reality but on a lower scale._"

"Can we go?"

"I said shut up."

"_Years passed and the mortal in question became depressed because of his past mistakes. One day, four mortal females came to him and warmed his heart through pointless actions. He knew that he couldn't change the past, but his actions could make the future better, so he gave them the sorcerous power to control the seasons._"

"What?!" Braylon blurted out, scaring Claptrap.

"_Indeed, such is the stupidity of mortals. That power passed on from generation to generation. Some used it for "good", others for evil. No matter their choices, it is still evil, since its roots came from us, but that is a story for another time. Make no mistake, no mortal is good. Not even one. If you were, then there would be no need for commandments, right?" The voice laughed. "In any case, now the sources of those powers are sealed somewhere on this planet. I have trouble sensing them all, as whoever has them probably took some measures to defend them. Your task is to find them and destroy them, one by one._"

"_If you don't know where they are, then how am I supposed to find them?_"

"_I said I had trouble sensing them all. I am still able to feel the presence of one source._"

"_You mean to tell me that there is one here? In this city?_"

"_Yes. One is definitely here. And I know exactly where._"

"_Then tell me._"

"_Find a map first._"

Braylon and Claptrap walked towards a small bus station down the road, which had the map of the whole city displayed on the screen. It was divided in several sectors, each outlined and named. One sector caught his attention.

"_There it is._"

"_...Beacon Academy?_"

"_Yes. I can feel its power radiating from there._"

"_How the hell am I going to get inside?_"

"_You still didn't figure it out?_"

Braylon frowned, then widened his eyes as he stepped back.

"_Aw hell no._"

"_Yes._"

"_No!_"

"_Yes._"

"_No way! I am not going to enroll in that fucking place! There is no way I am going to be a fucking student!_"

"_What choice do you have?_"__

_"_But I have no idea what is that academy for!_"___

_ _ _"_You have a tongue, Use it._"_ _ _

_ _ _"**** this. If you don't tell me what you have in mind I swear-"_ _ _

_ _ _"Claptrap."_ _ _

_ _ _"Yes?"_ _ _

_ _ _"First, promise me you won't throw a tantrum. Otherwise in scrapyard you go."_ _ _

* * *

_ _ _"I can't believe this. I seriously can't ****ing believe this."_ _ _

_ _ _"You better do. You've been rambling about it for hours."_ _ _

_ _ _Night came, and with it, a whole plethora of events that would shape Braylon's future. Apart from Claptrap's incessant complaining, Braylon was able to acquire some information regarding the academy. In Braylon's words, it was nothing but a glorified Huntsman recruitment center, where the children would waste few years of their life doing and learning absolutely nothing only to get killed the moment they set foot out of Vale. But who would enroll in that academy? The blissfully ignorant of what's outside those walls or the optimists who think they could do something to change the world, only to end up like the rest of them. In short, a waste of everyone's time._ _ _

_ _ _"Why am I even following you?"_ _ _

_ _ _"Maybe because I am the only person on the planet capable of fixing you should you need it?"_ _ _

_ _ _"...Meh, I can accept that."_ _ _

_ _ _The duo stood on a sidewalk, unsure of what to do next._ _ _

_ _ _"Fleshbag, look." Claptrap pointed at a store._ _ _

_ _ _"From Dust Till Dawn? What's that?"_ _ _

_ _ _Claptrap rolled forward. "Well, aside from being a blatant reference to a movie, methinks it must be a shop."_ _ _

_ _ _"Haven't you had enough of shopping?" Braylon complained. "We visited, like, twenty shops already!"_ _ _

_ _ _"Come on, fleshbag. Obey your master and follow me."_ _ _

_ _ _"One is more than enough thank you." He grumbled under his breath as they entered the building._ _ _

_ _ _"Welcome, welcome." The old man behind the counter said. "What can I do for you, young man?"_ _ _

_ _ _"Just checking out what you have in here."_ _ _

_ _ _"Suit yourself."_ _ _

_ _ _Braylon nodded and the duo split apart, each going for the opposite side. He had to be honest to himself, he couldn't care less for what the store was selling. Partly because he was tired and partly because he was annoyed by Claptrap's rambling. The idea was to take the robot with him, so that he could always have an eye on it. There was no need to make even more problems. However, he did get curious as to why there were tubes filled with powder, each with different colors. But in the end, he got over his curiosity and moved further._ _ _

_ _ _He felt someone bump into him. Turning around, he saw that the offender was a short girl in a black dress, completely unaware that he was close to her. Muttering a quiet apology, he moved away from her and grabbed a magazine that depicted various guns._ _ _

_ _ _"Did you see the new sniper rifle on the fifth page?" Blinking, he turned his head to the girl, who looked back at him with a smile under her red hood. "T-those eyes..."_ _ _

_ _ _"Uh..." Braylon tried to form an intelligent answer. "...no, I'm afraid I didn't."_ _ _

_ _ _"You totally should. It has a lightweight magazine that makes it easier to reload during a fight since it fires three bullets per shot which quickly eats up all ammunition and..." She suddenly cringed. "Sorry... I'll just... yeah..." She slowly returned to her magazine._ _ _

_ _ _"_Wow, that was something._"_ _ _

_ _ _As the girl put her headphones back on, Braylon heard the door opening and a conversation between the old man and another voice._ _ _

_ _ _"Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a Dust shop open this late?"_ _ _

_ _ _"P-please! Just take my Lien and leave!"_ _ _

_ _ _"Shh, relax. We are not here for the money."_ _ _

_ _ _And then Claptrap was heard out of nowhere._ _ _

_ _ _"Whoa! You guys are the ones from earlier! Hey, fleshbag, come check it out!"_ _ _

_ _ _Braylon reached Claptrap, who pointed at the group of people who were dressed like the ones from the boutique. Except this time, there was a man with a bowler hat and white suit. One of the men in black suits went somewhere out of their sight._ _ _

_ _ _"Look, there are the bandits and then there is the living rip-off from A Clockwork Orange. I say we kill them all."_ _ _

_ _ _The mooks looked at each other while the man in white sighed._ _ _

_ _ _"Say, you must be one of those "Huntsmen", correct?"_ _ _

_ _ _"No. I am the guy who's about to kick your ass."_ _ _

_ _ _"Right." The man sighed again. "Weirdos these days... alright, listen up. Take care of the kid and grab everything you can. I'll wait outside." And with that, he got out. Not even seconds later, the mook from before flew out of the shop through a window along with something red he was unable to see._ _ _

_ _ _"Claptrap, step back. These guys are mine."_ _ _

_ _ _"No ****ing way. I was here first."_ _ _

_ _ _"You will get another oil can."_ _ _

_ _ _"Alrighty! They are all yours!"_ _ _

_ _ _"Awesome." He turned to the bandits. "And I won't even use my guns."_ _ _

_ _ _"Just kidding!" Claptrap yelled as he took out the SMG and gunned down every mook in the shop._ _ _

_ _ _Braylon deadpanned. "That was a dick move."_ _ _

_ _ _"Life is hard, deal with it."_ _ _

_ _ _They both heard an explosion outside and rushed out to see what was going on. There, Braylon saw the girl again. This time she held a large red and black scythe he was sure it was far to heavy for a girl that size, yet able to carry it like a weapon. She quickly threw a glance at his way, their eyes meeting for a second time, before she turned around. Braylon followed her movements and saw the man going for the roof of a building. Braylon left Claptrap behind as he went for the ladder, only to see the girl flying after a loud bang._ _ _

_ _ _"_Goodbye physics. Nice knowing you._" Braylon mentally sighed as he was the third person to reach the roof. "_Must ask her how she did that._"_ _ _

_ _ _But he was already too late, as the man stood inside a flying vehicle of some kind. He threw an object at the girl's feet before pointing his cane at her. Whatever he was about to do was stopped by Braylon who took the energy pistol and fired at the man's shoulder, causing him to fall somewhere inside the vehicle with a loud scream. He came back up, angrier than before, and, before Braylon could do anything, fired a shot at the two of them, seemingly from his cane._ _ _

_ _ _A woman came out of nowhere and conveniently stopped the bullet from harming them by casting, what Braylon thought it was, a purplish circle, which quickly turned into several tendrils that returned fire to the sender. She then formed black clouds that bombarded the vehicle with ice shards._ _ _

_ _ _"_Well, that's some bullshit._"_ _ _

_ _ _Just when he thought he saw enough, there came yet another woman out from the shadows. From what he was able to see, he saw a red dress that began glowing as soon as her hands were set of fire. Braylon groaned and decided to end the comedy by pointing his gun at one of the engines and firing until it started malfunctioning, the woman almost falling out from the aircraft because of it. Whoever was the pilot made a smart decision and decided to fly away._ _ _

_ _ _"...That was so anticlimactic."_ _ _

_ _ _The blurted response that came from Braylon's mouth made the two of them turn their heads to him. He really didn't like the funny look that the blonde with a whip was giving him._ _ _


	10. Chapter 10 - Don't Make a Lemonade

And so there he was, sitting in a room so dark that he could barely see anything, except for what a lamp above his head illuminated, which was a desk. Waiting half an hour for anything to happen made him really bored as there was nothing in the room that was worthy of examining. After the fifteen minute mark, Braylon decided to dive into the PDA to check if everything was in its proper place, if the database lacked something and his current health, both physical and psychological. Wincing slightly at the latter state, Braylon was interrupted in his work by the voice.

"_Another thing._"

He stopped mid-tap and looked up, towards the door. "_What now?_"

"_During your stay here, should I warn you about the presence of my brothers, you will cease anything you do and stop them in whatever they try, wherever they try. The last thing I need is them establishing a foothold in this reality. Should they succeed, any effort to save this reality will be utterly pointless._"

"_And how am I gonna know where exactly will they be?_"

"_I will guide you._"

"_And let me guess, they won't give up on his place, will they?_"

"_Without a doubt. They don't know fear, because no mortal can do anything to them, only determination to reach their goals. Some attempts will revolve around deception and mortal manipulation, others will be less-subtle and more focused on causing as much damage as possible before retreating and attacking somewhere else. You don't know my brothers, but I do._"

As the voice ended its speech, the door opened and the woman with the riding crop came in. She didn't say anything to him, just reached the table and glared at the young man in front of her. In Braylon's opinion, she was trying to hard to act all strict and disciplined. She began pacing left and right.

"I certainly hope you understand the danger you and the young lady put yourselves in by executing that little stunt of yours."

Were those different times, Braylon's reply wouldn't be very appropriate, as it would make his life harder by diminishing his chances to infiltrate into that academy through "pretend to be a wannabe student" plan. Of course, flipping the bird should never be an appropriate response to anything. So instead he was forced to act shy, as if the scolding from the older-than-him was actually working.

"I said this before to the young lady and I will say it to you. If it were up to me I would send you home with a pat on the back..." He raised an eyebrow. "...and a slap on the wrist." She slapped the table with her riding crop. He didn't move an inch, which only served to make her glare even more cringeworthy. "But, there is someone who would like to meet both of you."

Behind her came yet another person. A man with white hair and a pair of too small to be relevant in their purpose. Aside from looking serious, as a man in a black coat can be, he was also holding a mug. He could hear the voice giggling at the back of his mind. It was faint yet perceptible, enough to give him goosebumps.

The man coughed in his fist before muttering something about the eyes. "Before I start any kind of conversation, I need to know the person sitting in front of me. So would you kindly tell me your name, mister..."

"Braylon." He replied quickly, trying to look as innocent as a seventeen-years-old teenager could. "Braylon Monocriffe, sir."

"Mister Braylon." The man nodded. "I hope you realize the situation you are currently in."

"S-sir?"

The man pulled out a device which played the footage of him and Claptrap back at that shop along with the eventual death of those bandits by the hands of the Claptrap's SMG. There was no emotion on Braylon's face that would indicate horror at the sight, which made him panic slightly when he realized his mistake a little bit too late to do anything.

"Now, to an untrained eye, it may seem that the robot was holding you hostage or threatening you in any way. But I see it differently."

"_Oh yeah?_"

"To me it seems that you and that robot are... partners. Am I correct?"

"Technically, we are just-"

"And I am convinced you know that, what that robot did, was nothing short of a crime."

This made Braylon a little bit more antsy than he inteded. "So what?" He blurted out. "They were bandits. They threatened an honest, taxpaying citizen."

"And I assume that is your argument for taking those lives, rather than have them spend some time in prison?"

While Braylon had a somewhat excellent control of his emotions, due to the emotional suppressor implant, the fuse was already lit. "And to give those bandits to some pompous old man in a chair which will condemn them a year or two in jail, only to let them back out to do what they want? And we are not even talking about the corrupt ones!" The man frowned slightly as he stared at the Vault Hunter. "Who is gonna "reform" them? Politicians? Sure, if they ever pull their heads out of their asses and stop lying to people in their face. Economists? No thanks, they are busy treating humans like cattle for a debt-fueled machine that was doomed to fail since its inception. So tell me, who is gonna do it?"

"Huntsmen."

Braylon would continue his tirade if he didn't caught their glares, first at him then at each other. He had gone too far. It was time to return to his make-believe good guy personality. "Who?"

"Huntsmen. People who dedicate their lives to the benefit of all mankind. Those who wish to change the world, who protect what little remains of our exsistence on such a harsh planet that is Remnant."

"_And fail epicly at that._"

"These are the people who come from all walks of life. From those who live in poverty to those rich enough to afford a high standard of living. All of them fighting against one common enemy."

"Which is?"

"The Grimm that roam outside those walls."

"...Who are you?"

"Ozpin is my name. I am the headmaster of Beacon Academy."

Braylon's eyes widened involuntarily. He couldn't believe his luck. It was convenient. Almost disturbingly so. "You mean-"

"Yes." He nodded. "That Beacon Academy."

"And... what did I do, exactly, to deserve an audience with the headmaster himself?"

"That robot... is your ally. It also commited a crime. As such, you must be held responsible for it in the same way as that robot."

"_Well, if we ignore the bullshit reasoning and the fact that Claptrap is capable of doing things on its own..._ Go on."

"You should be delivered to the court and sentenced to prison. However..."

"However?"

"Say, how old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"Seventeen. That still makes you a minor, meaning that you can't be held responsible. Someone older should take that responsibility." The woman behind him unfolded her arms and stared at the man, her frown softening slightly at the implication.

"And who would that be?" Braylon tried to act dumb.

"That person... would be me."

"...I'm sorry?"

"You heard me. I am willing to take responsibility for the murder of those people."

"But..." Braylon chuckled. He knew it was an act of mockery towards them, but he made it look like he couldn't believe what he heard. "Wait, wait... there's gotta be something behind this generous offer, am I right?"

"Yes. In return, I want you to join my academy."

Braylon couldn't take it anymore and laughed out loud. He seriously started thinking that the voice might had its fingers behind that comedy. It was a demon, after all. However, he also had to act as natural as possible.

"And why should I accept this invitation?"

"Because the other solution wouldn't make anyone happy, I'm sure of it."

He waited for a few moments. "Question."

"Yes?"

"Can I bring my robot?"

* * *

"Oh my gosh! You are coming too?!"

"Yes."

"Cool." The girl muttered.

Everything went smoothly so far. With the access to the academy falling right into his lap, without even breaking a sweat, made things far less complicated than he had anticipated. If everything went like that, he thought, it will be a piece of cake for him to reach the object of interest. They even called a taxi to bring him towards the airport. Him and the girl.

Right, the girl. He wasn't entirely sure why she was coming too. She had to be a few years younger than him. Still, there must have been a good reason why that headmaster, that Ozpin, decided to enrol her too. He wanted to ask her, but what he received so far were awkward answers from an even more awkward individual. Sighing, he admitted to himself that asking her about anything was a waste of his time, so he decided to shut up and wait patiently for the taxi.

Their car arrived ten minutes later. It was in a far better condition than virtually any four-wheeled machine on Pandora. No missing parts, nothing that looks like it could explode any minute, nothing sharp that could give you instant tetanus just by touching it with a finger. In other words, a completely normal car, complete with a storage compartment for holding a tied up Claptrap who, while unable to move, was very much able to swear, as evidenced by the muffled beeping every five seconds. He never thought he would see the day.

The ride was quiet ever since it started. Their taxi moved at moderate speeds, allowing Braylon to see many buildings. He still didn't get used to the beauty that was the city. It was calm, yet filled with life around every corner, peaceful and clean. A tiny jewel in the mud. He was interrupted in his musings by the girl that tapped him on the shoulder. He turned towards her.

"What is it?"

"Heh, sorry. I was wondering if you could... you know..." She rubbed the back of her head and smiled sheepishly. "...show me your weapons?"

"No."

The straight-up, blunt answer confused her completely. She started begging.

"I said no."

Then she used a technique that all girls her age know and use it for their evil purposes. A technique that not one person can escape from. The puppy dog eyes. Especially her version, which, due to her silver eyes, made it look even cuter. Braylon, however, just deadpanned, placed a hand on her head and turned it towards her window.

"I used that trick too when I was younger. Not working on me."

He saw her puffing up her cheeks and sighed.

"_I'll never understand women..._"

Eventually they reached the airport. But to his surprise, there were no such things as airplanes or helicopters. Rather, there was a giant thing with several pairs of wings that looked more like a metallic blimp than an airplane. It was full of people waiting in line to reach its insides. Braylon and the girl stood close to each other but then, when they finally entered, separated and went each on the opposite side of the vehicle. He didn't bother thinking about the girl and sat down on a metallic bench, scrolling through the PDA and ignoring every other student around him, including the Claptrap who stood beside him, now free to move. A voice reached his ears several minutes after they took off. Raising his head, he was looking at a holographic screen.

"...And now the news. The scientific community of Vale reported that the scientists discovered not one, but two new species roaming around the walls outside the kingdom. Something that baffled the scientists from all over Remnant, as it is unknown how didn't anyone noticed them sooner, especially due to their nature."

Braylon's eyes widened when two images appeared above the woman. The one on the left was that of a Swarmer Sturg he encountered in that dimension while the one on the right was a creature he was sure he had never seen before. A green, four-legged something that lacked arms and had a face that resembled a demented version of a sad emoji, only with darkness filling the orifices, rather than an actual mout or eyes.

"According to the scientific community, both species are extremely territorial and agressive. They can, and will, attack everyone on sight. The insectoid on the left lives in groups and is as large as a Boarbatusk. One shouldn't be a problem but a whole group is enough of a danger to pose a threat even to the best Huntsmen and Huntresses Vale has to offer. The one on the right should be avoided at all times. Do not, I repeat, do not approach this creature, for if any human or Faunus does, it will run towards them and self-destruct, causing potentially fatal wounds. One must always be careful in their natural habitat, because they, much to the community's confusion, make no noise in any action they partake, making them a threat that shouldn't be taken lightly." The pictures dissapeared only to be replaced with another one, showing a huge crater. "Disturbing news come from outside the walls. The village of Clacton, with all of its inhabitants, dissapeared in the night around the time of the earthquake, leaving behind a crater approximately ten kilomters wide and two deep. Researchers are unable to find out what could cause such a catastrophe. According to them, a Grimm attack isn't possible because there is simply nothing left to analyze, although they are sure that the dissapearance is closely related to the massive energy outburt that fried several machines in many laboratories across Vale."

Braylon's mind went blank after that. "_Shit._" He covered his face with his hands. "_Shit. Shit. Shit._"

He started panicking heavily. The fact that not one, but two different species, definitely not belonging to this reality, suddenly found themselves on Remnant, meant that at least two rifts were opened somewhere on the surface of the planet, allowing specimens of both species to cross over, this in turn meant that, depending on the time of their arrival, they most likely started breeding and colonizing, eventually resulting in a massive damage dealt to the natural ecosystem. The disturbing line of thought was brought up to eleven when he started projecting that same situation only happening in different realities and organisms. Just one of the consequences of the multiversal apocalypse that was about to unravel, him being powerless to stop it in any way. His attention was once again taken away when the holographic screen changed with the projection of the woman who stood with Ozpin back at that building.

"Hello and welcome to Beacon. My name is Glynda Goodwitch. You are among the privileged few who have received the honor of being selected to attend this prestigious academy."

"_Oh, right. Prestigious as in "we are going to make you learn how to commit suicide"._" Braylon snarked mentally and scoffed.

"Our world is experiencing an incredible time of peace..."

"_Methinks you are all screwed as soon as the shitstorm happens._"

"...You have demonstrated the courage needed for such a task and now..."

Braylon stopped focusing on the boring introductory speech and instead decided to search with his eyes for the red reaper riding hood. He found her, or at leas the thought he did, standing near a girl taller than her, wearing something that passes as armor these days (as in, effective enough to distract the opposite gender but not enough to protect from an actual "bullet-in-vagina" that bandits like to perform on any female they get their disgusting hands on) and with a hair so long and so golden that she might as well be the daughter of Midas himself. A girl that, in his brief analysis based on the info he received just from looking at her, is not afraid to express her natural beauty. In other words, a pile of excrement so stinky that it can attract flies light-years away from it.

"Mm.. sorry!" The young Vault Hunter jumped away just in time as a blond started vomiting near him. Braylon swore loudly and punched the offender in the face so hard that he walked backwards, going towards the Yellow and Red, and vomited some more near them.

Braylon sighed in irritation. "Yay, the fun begins."

* * *

"Well, somebody likes Walt Disney." Was the first Claptrap's comment as soon as he reached the firm ground. Truly, Beacon Academy looked more of a castle than an educational institution, with the highest tower giving the illusion that it touched the sky. According to Braylon, it was nothing more than a glorified waste of taxpayer money for an institution that could accomplish its reason for exsistence with an average building and still be a prestigious school. But it seems that peacocks must always show their feathers wherever they go.

And while vomit boy was busy doing what he did best in the nearest trash can, the duo wasted no time and followed the road that lead to the academy. On their way, they found Red talking with a girl in a white dress.

"Seriosuly though, what's with the color theme?" Claptrap whispered loudly to Braylon, who shrugged. "No idea. Must be part of their culture." The robot snorted. "Ha! Culture my ass! Time to put my tin foil hat and go ****ing bananas with this ****. Boy, I tell you, I'm here for giggles."

Claptrap rolled away from Braylon and towards the girl in white. He snatched a bottle from her hands and started shaking it, spilling out a cloud of red dust. Unfortunately the other girl sneezed, resulting in a gigantic explosion. Braylon had no idea why everyone survived that, even Claptrap, who returned to the Vault Hunter, now covered in soot.

"Can't these autistic ****s just cool it off with their bull**** for, like, ten seconds? I swear, the more time I spend in this cesspool, the more I go crazy."

Braylon facepalmed. "You and me both. What was that anyways?"

"**** if I know. Something about dust. Nothing important."

Leaving the two bickering girls behind, Braylon and his robot companion marched forward, not bothering to stop at anyone or anything. Eventually they reached a large group of students, who were seemingly waiting for something to happen. There were also the two girls from earlier, along with the blonde one. He didn't hear their conversation because he was far from them, nor did he care. His reason for being there wasn't to make "friends", but to do something that could as well put the whole planet in danger.

His eyes slowly moved from side to side, taking a good look at the future students of the academy. So far he got the impression that none of them was exactly a hero material. While their weapons were mediocre at best, their "armor" left much to be desired, if it could even be called that. Also, none of them had anything that would resemble a Shield, thus increasing his skepticism at their ability to be usefuly in any way, shape or form.

And that was when the headmaster appeared.

"I'll... keep this brief." He started. Braylon and Claptrap ignored him and instead focused on a conversation of their own. A conversation that was, and we are being honest, thought-provoking and brimming with intellectual power.

"Ten bucks I say he lives a secret life as a pimp."

"That guy?" Claptrap snorted. "He looks like the biggest mother****ing cuck I've ever seen."

"Come on! He even has a cane!"

"He also has a loyal disciplinarian at his side who looks like an owner of a sex dungeon."

"... you do know that goes in my favor, right?"

"Hell no!"

"Hell yeah!"

Some nearby students shushed them as the woman, Glynda, reached the microphone and talked about a place where they would all gather for the night that was about to come. The introduction ended with that and soon everyone moved to the designated room.

* * *

The young Vault Hunter had no luck when it came to sleeping. It didn't matter how many sleeping drugs his PDA created or how much he tried to relax. Nothing could remove the horror that clawed at his sanity the moment his eyes. Before all of this happened, it was somehow manageable. All he needed to do was to activate one of PDA's functions which boosted his energy as if he drank several hundred cups of coffe. If he couldn't sleep, then he wouldn't sleep in the first place. But now, after he escaped from Hell, the problem became even more of a nightmare. Voices and images would randomly pop into his mind, sometimes he would start panicking, other times he would hold himself from becoming a pitiful pile on the floor, muttering and crying.

But that night, things were a tiny bit different. Since he didn't sleep, he sat on the floor, watching others doing it for him. Claptrap was busy doing something he didn't bother to notice and there was nothing else that would help him spend some time. At one point, the blond from earlier reached him and apologized for his... "problems".

"Apology accepted. Now fuck off. Last thing I need tonight is someone annoying like you." It served as a good enough offense to drove him away. What he truly needed was some peace for himself, at least for one night, before he returned to the horror show his life had become. Sadly, that peace would be far from his reach as long as people kept bickering loudly when they should go to sleep. In this case, the people in question were, how Braylon named them, White, Yellow and Red.

"_Add a Black and we have the flag of Maryland, for fuck's sake._"

Apparently Yellow dragged Red towards a fourth girl, they started chatting when White appeared out of nowhere, who started complaining. Yellow replied but was shushed by Red. The fourth girl got tired of their antics and blew out a candle, thus saving them all from his wrath, which probably wouldn't end well for any of them.

"_At least that problem is solved, thank God._"

While he didn't need to sleep, he still decided to lay in one of the bags provided by the academy. So far he found two possible options for solving his problem. Option A: if he wanted to do the task he received with minimal damage possible, then he needed to act like your average student, so that nobody would suspect anything, while secretly trying to discover where the cursed thing was. Option B: he went in, killed anyone in his path, destroy the thing and get out.

The rational mind told him to pick A, because it would be somewhat easier. But in order to understand why Braylon didn't decide rationally, we need to understand how rationality works. The theory of rationality says that, in order for a decision to be rational, two conditions must be met. One, you always have to ask yourself what would a rational person do in that particular situation. Two, that action must be executed. This is all fine and dandy in theory, but there are some... problems. First of all, the term "rational" is very broad. If for someone an action is rational, it is because they believe it to be. The other problem is that a person can also act irationally.

Finally frustrated, Braylon shoved the thoughts aside.

"_Right. I better finish the initiation first. I hope it will be something easy._"


End file.
